


Dead Is the New Black

by Lovemarichat1002



Series: The Dead Is Series [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette, F/M, alno, miraculousau, miraculousladybug, nomiraculous, plikki, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 14:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14917160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovemarichat1002/pseuds/Lovemarichat1002
Summary: Teenage girls are being attacked all over Paris, including at College François Dupont. Marinette suspects head cheerleader, Alya Césaire, who returned from summer break with a new "look". She looks..dead. With a little help from Adrien , an old friend (who may be turning into something more). Marinette reveals the identity of the vamp, and discovers powers she didn't know she had. (Based on book by Marlene Perez)





	1. Chapter 1

Being dead became fashionable approximately forty-five minutes after Alya Césaire came back from summer break.

Although stylish as ever, there was still something off about Alya. She strolled down the hall wearing a cleavage bearing top, a miniskirt, and stiletto heels. Her long auburn hair had been freshly highlighted.

But unlike other summer vacations, Alya didn't have that sun-kissed glow. Her skin was dead white. A large silver pendant hung around her neck, but I couldn't get a good look at it. I wasn't the only one trying to sneak a peek, because heads turned more than they usually do as she strutted down the hall.

"Get out of my way, Marinette", she snapped at me as she passed by.

She was only slightly hampered by the coffin she was dragging behind her. At first I thought it was a giant wheelie backpack. But my clue came when Sabrina Raincomprix, who could have a gold medal in social climbing if it were a sport, rushed up to Alya. "Where did you get that..."

"Coffin," Alya supplied helpfully "Mort's Mortuary. Burnished Mahogany. Scaled to size for those with petite frames." I could have sworn she eyed my thighs with a look of scorn.

"Lined with satin?" Sabrina asked.

She recoiled in horror. "Silk, of course."

"Of course," Sabrina tittered. Alya went on her way, and Sabrina, faster than you could say dead girl walking, was on her cell phone to Mort's Mortuary.

After first period, I saw Mr. Damocles, our principal, talking to Alya in the hallway, so i loitered long enough to eavesdrop.

"My dear, why on earth have you adopted such an... unusual look? You look like a vampire."

"The preferred term is 'undead' or, if you must, 'living challenged' ," she said, nose in the air. " I'm not a vampire. The thought of drinking blood is disgusting!"

"But, but you're a student council member, head cheerleader, you represent College François Dupont to the world..."

"And now I represent this school looking like this." Alya said.

While Mr. Damocles spluttered, Alya walked away and called over her shoulder, "And why don't we let Daddy's lawyer decide whether or not I can continue to go to school dressed like this?" With that she took out her cell phone and punched in a number, interesting how she had Daddy's lawyer on speed dial.

After Alya lawyered up, Mr. Damocles has no choice. He had to let Alya wear whatever she wanted, as long as it was within dress code.

By the time dismissal came around, I was sick of hearing about Alta's new "look" I shut my locker, which closes with a clang.

"Hey Dupain-Cheng, what's up?" Adrien Agreste asked. He was the closest friend I had these days. His dad was chief of police in Paris.

When I didn't answer but just stood there frowning he continued, "I saw your mom on the news last night."

My mom had been helping his dad solve crimes since we were in diapers. Mom's a psychic. The real deal, not the kind that reads your palm for ten bucks. However she probably could do that too. Instead she spends her time crime solving.

We live in a small town - peaceful enough, I guess, but it's always been a little strange here. Paris was originally a frontier town a few hundred years ago, and it's history of full of strange occurrences, odd inhabitants, and secrets. The town was full of secrets.

I realized I still hadn't responded to Adrien. "Yep, Mom said as soon as she touched the scarf, she knew where the body was."

"Cool." He said turning to get a better view of Alya giggling with Sabrina at her locker.

"What do you think of all that?" I murmured, with a nod.

"She still looks beautiful." He replied, not taking his eyes of her.

I restrained the involuntary gag that rose to gym throat. I made a face.

"Marinette, I know you don't like her," Adrien Continued. "And I know she embarrassed you back in middle school, but she didn't mean to."

Embarrass was an understatement. Humiliate. Annihilate. Those were more accurate word choices.

"I don't want to talk about it. In fact, I'd be happy if her name was never mentioned again."

But Alya Césiare was all anybody wanted to talk about. The rest of the week was devoted to people watching her evermore and rehashing it endlessly.

By Friday, I'd had more than enough of the Alya Césaire madness. After school, I sat on our porch swing with a glass of lemonade, trying to clear my head of the past week.

That's when I saw Alya climbing into her boyfriend Nino Lahiffe's bedroom. She was using her coffin as a step stool to get in through the window. Nino has lived next door to me since the third grade. A few minutes later, I head Nino's deep voice, a series of giggles from Alya, then silence.

Alya Césaire was dead and she was getting more action than I was. Life wasn't fair.

My moment of solitude don't last long, my sister Manon came up and knocked over my lemonade. "It's your turn to make dinner, twerp." She was only a year older than me, but she likes to push me around. Now that she was a senior, it was even worse.

"My lemonade!" I said, but it was too late. I wat he's as the glass tipped over and then...didn't. I looked up and Manon smiled complacently.

"Show-off." I said as a headed for the kitchen.

Life wasn't fair. Manon never used her telekinesis for anything major. I thought of all the things I would do if I had her powers. But I didn't, so it looked like I had to make dinner the old fashioned way.

Not only am I the youngest, but I'm also the only non-psychic in the family. My dad disappeared under mysterious circumstances when I was eleven. He was a 'norm' just like me.

Do you know how hard it is to be the only 'norm' in a family of psychics? Trust me, it's bad.

Like the time I went on a date with Nathaniel Kurtzberg (my first and last date thanks to my sister Manon). I borrowed Manon's top without asking, thinking she'd never found out. Her psychic abilities hadn't fully developed yet, so I figured I was safe.

But she knew all right.

When Manon discovered her top was missing, she just told it to come home.

Unfortunately, I was with Nathaniel at the time, sitting at Diary Queen. I was also wearing the top on question.

The date had been going well. He talked about himself - but no too much - and he had an adorable smile. The smile disappeared however when he saw my top hover in the air and float out the door.

Luckily I was wearing a cami under the top or it would've been even more embarrassing. As it was Nathaniel broke out in a sweat and I was home twenty minutes later.

It seemed like I was always the one who ended up cooking dinner. Moms cases often kept her late. My other sister, Tikki, who was a freshman and Paris University was always studying. And Manon was - well. I don't know what Manon was doing besides annoying me.

I rummaged through the contents of our fridge, which were pretty pathetic. Some wilted lettuce, a couple of cartons of takeout, and a twelve-pack of diet coke. I found some decent veggies in the keeper along with some cheese. We needed to go grocery shopping again.

"I'll stop at the market after school tomorrow," Tikki said not even looking up from her books.

I hated it when she popped into my mind without my consent. I knew she didn't mean to, but I didn't have to like it. There were certain things that were meant to stay private. Like certain thoughts about Adrien Agreste.

"Sorry," she added. "I know you hate it. I was thinking about something else and wandered in."

At least Tikki tried to respect my privacy. "No, I'm just in a bad mood," I said. "Thanks for taking on the shopping.

I took out the vegetables I found in the fridge: tomatoes, mushrooms, and an onion. I washed the tomatoes and set them aside, then I chopped the onion and mushrooms to sauté with a little garlic. I found a package of noodles and took out the bad of cheese. Lasagna it was.

"Hey, watch it!" Tikki said. "You're getting tomato all over my notebook."

"But I'm not chopping tomatoes," I said. When I looked over to the counter, sure enough there was an exploded tomato on the counter.

"Manon knock it off or I swear - oh, hi, Mom," I said. "You're home early."

She stood in the doorway with her briefcase still in her hands. My mom was beautiful, her midnight black her was shiny and her eyes have been compared to sapphires. On the toner hand, my hair just looked dirty and my eyes were more like the color of Windex.

"Rough day," Mom said, "How was yours?"

"Same as yours," I said. "Rough."

Mom smiled in sympathy. "Do you need any help with dinner?"

"Thanks, but I have it under control."

"Thanks for cooking tonight, I don't think I could face making dinner after the day I had."

I looked at my mother, she never complained about her job. She looked pale and there were dark circles under her eyes.

I put the kettle on and made Mom a cup of tea. She sat at the counter and kept me company while I finished dinner.

After the lasagna was done and Manon grudgingly set the table, we ate in the dinning room.

"Mari, this is delicious." Mom said.

"I used Grandma's recipe, with a few minor alterations." I may not be psychic, but I make a mean lasagna.

After dinner Tikki and Manon headed for the kitchen for clean up duty. Mom headed for the living room. A few minutes later, I heard her talking on the phone.

I wandered in to read on the couch. Mom had a thick file in front of her. After a short conversation, she hung up the phone with an angry click.

"That man is going to give me gray hair." She said.

"What man? And why?"

"The county coroner, André Bourgeois. Because he's an idiot," she burst out. Then she sighed and said, "Forget I said that, Mari. I'm frustrated and I'm taking it out on him."

I was quiet, hoping she would say more.

"He refuses to believe that my contributions are real, which means he doesn't spend any time on the cases I consult on."

"But that's not fair," I protested. No matter what, I knew my mom was right. She never made a mistake about her psychic readings.

"No, its not," she agreed, "but fortunately, Paris' chief of police believes that my contributions are worth risking the wrath of the coroner's office."

"Chief Agreste is right," I said loyally. "You've helped so many people."

'But people like André Bourgeois are afraid of the unknown, and psychics are part of that unknown."

Manon and Tikki came in while we were talking. They carried a large dessert tray.

"We thought we could have dessert in here," Manon said.

Mom nodded, "Tikki, why don't you get the TV trays. Mari, this looks great." She held up a dish of ice cream and strawberries.

"Manon must have made it." I'd forgotten about dessert, and ice cream was Manon's favorite.

"Tikki," Mom said, "do you have a minute to look at something?"

"Sure," Tikki said, popping a strawberry into her mouth. "What is it?"

Mom took a deep breath. "I might as well tell you all. I need help with a case."

Stunned silence. Mom never, ever needed help with a case.

"You never ask for help," Manon said, tactful as usual.

"There's a file I want Tikki to see. I can't get a reading on the body." My sisters and I searched Mom's troubled face. She continued, "The female victim was an unidentified young, healthy girl who seemed to drop dead, and I can't determine why."

"Are you losing you psychic abilities?" Manon blurted out. "Are you becoming a - norm?"

The horror in her voice irritated me. I don't know what the big deal was. Being a "norm" wasn't so bad.

"You've had tough cases before," I reminded her. "Like that guy in Nice, remember? Turned out he was bitten by a spider and the bite was so small that you barely got anything."

"This is different," Mom replied. "I sensed violence - someone taking something she didn't want to give, but there wasn't any sign of injury. It's like someone just sucked the life out of her. The coroner's office is stumped."

"Tell us what you know about the victim." I suggested.

"Not much I'm afraid. A female approximately fifteen to seventeen years old. The police think she was a runaway. No signs of physical trauma. But I can't even get a glimpse of a memory. It's like every though, every feeling she had was erased."

"Why can't I help?" The question burst out of me.

"If she gets to, I'm helping too," Manon said.

"In don't think so Marinette." Mom shook her head. Firmly.

"Manon gave a triumphant crow, and Mom turned to her with a frown. " You either. I wouldn't have asked Tikki, but she's the oldest."

"But I want to help." I said

"I know you do, honey," Mom said. "But I need Tikki's help now."

"You mean Tikki's psychic abilities." I said. I pushed my dessert away, suddenly no longer hungry. "May I be excused?"

Without waiting for an answer, I stomped off to my room. Not the most mature move, I admit, but i was so sick of Manon and Tikki having a part of Mom's life. A part I couldn't share. I knew I'd be able to help her with the case, if she'd just let me.

I had lots of detective-like skills, such as the ability to tell if someone was lying. Having an ex-friend like Alya Césaire had taught me that lesson.

After pouting for a few minutes, I had an idea. As I tiptoed downstairs, I heard my name.

"It's hard for Marinette," Mom said. "You girls need to include her in more of your activities."

"There's so much she doesn't understand," Manon said. "Shes a norm, Mom. It's time you admit it."

"She's a late bloomer," Mom said. "You'll see. But normal or not, shes still your sister, and I expect you to treat her as such."

I forgot that the botton step creaked and put my weight on it. The sound gave me away.

"Mari, is that you?" Mom called from the family room.

"yes, it's me," I said, pretending that I didn't hear anything. I stepped into the family room. Manon was sprawled on the couch and Tikki and Mom were on either side of her. A cozy circle. A circle that excluded me.

I made a face, "I just want the cordless to call Adrien."

"Wow, Mari, I didn't know you had it in you," Manon said. "He is a hottie, but maybe a nit out of your league."

"He's my friend, remember, Manon? Don't be disgusting," I said. "Can I have the cordless?"

"Friend, huh? That may have been true when you were both playing in the sandbox, but if you haven't noticed, Adrien is all grown up now."

She crowed even louder when she saw the blush spread across my face. "I knew it! You do have a thing for him."

To embarrassed to reply, I just held out my hand for the phone. Manon usually carried the phone around like it was her security blanket. She reached under a pillow and handed it to me.

I stomped up stairs. Manon was such a pain in the ass somestimes. Even if I was interested in Adrien, I didn't have a chance. Not with Alya Césaire in existence.

I shut my bedroom door and locked it. Manon's abilities didn't include psychic eavesdropping, and Tikki would never stoop to low, but there was still the garden variety of eavesdropping.

This was something I definitely did't want them to hear.

I took a deep breath and dialed Adrien's number. It was just Adrien, who'd I'd known all my life. Adrien, who'd shot up a foot the suymmer before high school. Adrien with his green eyes and blonde hair.

"Agreste residence, Adrien speaking." Adrien's dad insisted he answered the phone taht way. You know, the polite way.

There was a lump in my throat, which bloaked my power of spech. Damn that Manon! She had to open her mouth and make me think about Adrien in that way.

"Hello?" Adrien said. "Mari?"

Caller ID. Sometimes I hated technology. Like now, when it would have been so easy just to hang up.

"Hey, Adrien." I finally said.

"What's up?"

I'd called Adrien lots of times, but this was different because I needed a favor. A big one.

"Can you meet me tonight?" I asked.

"Uh, sure. Where?" Adrien's voice sounded resigned, not exactly the reaction I wanted from the hottest guy in school. I reminded myself that I had no interest in Adrien Agreste.

"At the diner around ten-thirty." Theo's Diner was conveniently located across from the police station,

"Marinette, my curfew is midnight." Adrien's dad was strict, being the police chief and all.

"I know, I know. It won't take long."

"Okay," he said. "Do I want to know what you're getting me into this time?"

"It's no biggie," I said, "but bring that extra set of keys. You know the ones." We both knew his dad kept a spare set of office keys at the house.

He groaned in exasperation, but he didn't say no.


	2. Chapter 2

Adrien was late. I checked my watch again. Definitely late.

I was the only one left in the place. Juleka came over and asked me pointedly, "Can I get you anything else?" Which was restaurant code for "You're the only one left in this place, so stop nursing that Sprite and skedaddle."

"Slow night?" I asked, hoping that the conversation would distract her.

"The tips have been lousy," she groused. "And my feet are killing me."

Juleka talked like some world-weary waitress from the fifties, the kind that showed up on late-night television musicals, but she was only twenty, hard boiled, and with serious tats. And if you asked her to wear a pink uniform and scarf, she would have shoved it down your throat. She wore jeans to work, along with one of her unending supply of T-shirts with slogans. 'This one said "VIRGINITY IS A STATE IF MIND"

I was afraid virginity would be a permanent state, in my case.

"I'm waiting for someone." I said. "He should be here any minute."

A second later, loud music filled the room. We both jumped.

"New Jukebox," Juleka explained. "It's a little touchy. It plays when it wants to."

I stared at her. We were the only two people in the place. "Who put the money in?"

The song playing was "Here Comes Your Man" by the Pixies.

Juleka shrugged. "Nobody. It's just different from other jukeboxes. Theo called someone to come out and fix it and everything. He couldn't find a thing wrong with it."

Juleka glanced over my shoulder at someone who was coming into the dinner and gave a sparkling smile. You didn't have to be a psychic to know it was Adrien.

"It's about time," I said, without turning around. Juleka only smiled like that for Adrien.

He sat down across from me. "How'd you know it was me?"

"I have my ways." I smirked.

"Sorry I'm late. I had something to take care off. He turned toward Juleka. "Can I have a cup of coffee? Whatever's in the pot is fine."

"That swill? Don't be silly." Juleka said. " I'll make you a fresh pot."

Juleka didn't use words like silly. It sounded so girlish, so flirtatious. So not Juleka. Adrien did seem to have that effect on the opposite sex.

I frowned and looked at the clock again. "You'd better get your coffee to go," I told him. I wanted to make sure we had plenty of time to investigate.

"Mari, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course I'm sure," I said l. I ignored the fact that if Mom found out, I'd probably be grounded until graduation. Mine, not Manon's.

After Adrien paid the check and Juleka gave him a huge cup of coffee to go, we were finally ready.

"Did you remember the keys?" I asked him once we were outside.

He nodded. "What do you need them for this time?"

"The morgue." I didn't look at him when I said it.

"New hobby?"

"I need to look at a dead body."

"Of course you do," he said. "What else would you do in the morgue?" He took my arm as we crossed the street. "Well, we'd better hurry. Ivan is about to take his nightly cigarette break.

I wondered about how Adrien knew so much about Ivan's habits, but the feel of his hand on my arm distracted me.

Main Street was empty of people. There weren't even any cars in sight, except the lone police cruiser parked in front of the station.

Adrien looked up and down the street. "We really need to get a movie theater or something. It's like this town does every night at eight."

We weren't really going to the actual morgue. The nearest real morgue was in Nice, but the "cooler" as I'd heard Chief Agreste calls it, was the place where bodies could be temporarily stored in Paris. This body would be shipped to Nice before the weekend was over. So we had to act fast.

As we neared the side door, the sound of Ivan's voice carried in the night air. "But honey, I think we should wait until..."

His voice faded, but I could tell he was pacing as he smoked a Marlboro and talked in the phone with Mylene, his girlfriend of 12 years. Everyone in town had a bet on when he was going to pick the question. I had a five spot on Valentines Day 2020, but I'm a romantic.

Adrien rummaged through his pocket and withdrew a set of keys. When he handed them to me, I got the key in the lock. The door opened with a groan. We froze, but could still hear Ivan talking on his cell.

"If my dad catches us—"

"He won't," I promised rashly. "We'll only be a few minutes."

Once we were inside, it took me a few minutes to get my courage up. I flicked on the pen-sized flashlight I'd brought with and shown it around the room.

There was a beat up metal desk and a filing cabinetry in one corner. The remainder of the room was taken up by a long table, and along the other wall, a row of refrigerated steel drawers.

The cooler was not the place to stash a cold soda. He cooler was a place to stash a dead body. I gulped.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Adrien asked. His voice sounded soft, concerned. His had brushed mine, and every molecule in my body jumped to meet him.

"I have to do this," I replied after a minute. "Mom needs my help. She just doesn't know it yet. Can you guard the door?"

Adrien went off to play lookout while I did some snooping.

All the talk about vampires had me spooked, but I took a deep breath and approached the cooler.

A gust of cold air slammed the breath from my body when I opened the first compartment. To my relief, it was empty. I knew i didn't have much time for snooping, but I'd never seen a dead body before and it wasn't something I was looking forward to. I shivered and breathed in through my mouth. There was a strong chemical smell in the room, but it couldn't completely disguise another, more unpleasant odor. I steeled myself not to think about it and opened another drawer.

There she was — a shell that used to be a person.

I could tell she's probably been attractive when she was alive — red hair, petite figure. Her shoulders were bare and she looked cold, draped in a white sheet. I resisted the urge to put my jacket around her thin shoulders. I checked her neck, looking for fang marks. I felt a little ridiculous doing it, but anything was possible in Paris. Her neck was long and white, but it didn't have a mark on it.

I don't know what I was doing. Why had I tried to help? This death stuff was way beyond my abilities. I wasn't psychic. I wasn't a detective. What I knew about solving mysteries could be found in the pages of a Nancy Drew novel.

On her right hand was a smudged ink stamp. I could just make out the word Opal.

Could Opal be her name? But why would she stamp her own name on her hand?

There was a tattoo of a four-leaf clover on the base of her left thumb. That lucky charm hasn't brought her much luck. I also noticed that her long auburn hair had a thick white streak that extended along the part, all the way down to the top of her hair.

I moved away from the body. There wasn't anything I could do for her now, except try to find her killer.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a movement. I held still, barely daring to breathe, and watched. There it was again. Her hand moved, I was sure of it.

"Is there anybody here?" I said, and then felt foolish when I remembered what Mom had told me, that bodies sometimes gave the illusion of movement after death.

Just my imagination. I closed the drawer containing the body and clicked off my flashlight. I had few clues, but didn't know what to do with them.

Adrien burst into the room. "We've got to leave now!" He panted. He moved closer, until he practically bumped into me, then handed me the keys to me. "Hold onto these."

I heard footsteps coming closer. I couldn't see his face in the dark, but I knew his face mirrored the panic welling up inside me.

"Ivan" I hissed. "What do we do?"

Adrien grabbed my hand. "I have an idea," he said. "Just play along, okay?" His palms were sweaty.

The footsteps sounded like they were right outside the door.

Adrien drew me closer.

"Wha...?"

That's when Adrien kissed me. It was obvious he'd had lots of practice. I hadn't, but I was a quick learner.

I liked the way he cradled my cheeks in his hands as we kissed.

He pressed his body closer to mine. I moved backward until my butt touched something cold. He'd backed me into the cooler. The thought repulsed me for a second and I tried to shove him away.

"Kiss me back," he whispered, and I responded, all thoughts of where we were flying out of my brain. I wriggled closer and touched my lips to his once again. His hands tangled in my hair and the tip of his tongue met mine.

We heard a loud throat-clearing, and then someone turned on the light switch. Adrien and I stood blinking in the sudden brightness. I realized I was still in his arms and took a giant step backward like we were playing a game of hokey-pokey, rather than a game of hanky-panky.

"Agreste," Ivan said, "what did I tell you would happen if I caught you in here with a girl again?"

"You'd call my dad," Adrien replied glumly.

A girl? My brain registered. Again? Who had Adrien brought to the morgue? And why the morgue?

Ivan stared at us for a few seconds. "I thought i took your keys away last time," he said.

"The door was already open when I came in," Adrien said. Technically not a lie, since I was the one who opened it.

I found my voice. "Please don't call his father. I asked Adrien to bring me here. It's not his fault."

Ivan could barely restrain himself from giving Adrien a congratulatory high five.

I glared at Adrien. It's probably be all over the county tomorrow what a stud the Agreste kid was. If it wasn't already, I thought, remembering Ivan's words, particularly the part and the girl and again.

Finally, we convinced Ivan not to say anything to Adrien's Dad or my mom. After giving us a stern warning to head straight home, Ivan let us off the hook.

Adrien insisted on walking me home, even though it was almost his curfew. I stared staunchly ahead the whole time. It took us about ten minutes to get from the station to my house.

We were in front of my house. I opened the gate and we started up the walkway.

Adrien stopped in his tracks. "Mari, I'm really sorry about that kiss," he said.

I turned and looked at him. "Thanks a lot," I said.

"I didn't mean it that way," he said. "I just meant that the morgue isn't the best place for a first kiss."

"Didn't sound like it was a first for you," I said.

Adrien said softly, "Mari—"

"You're going to miss your curfew," I said.

He didn't budge.

"It's no big deal," I said.

"You seem mad," he said, leaning against the fence.

"I'm not mad," I said, gritting my teeth and smiling as pleasantly as possible. "You just took me by surprise, that's all. Next time, just give me a little notice."

"A little notice before I kiss you?" Adrien said. He grinned widely. "I can do that. I'm going to..."

He leaned in. I never found out what he was going to do, because the porch light flicked on.

I saw a curtain stir at one of the front windows. I was going to kill Manon.

"I'll see you later," Adrien said. I watched him as he hopped out low picket fence and took off, whistling in the dark. Why was he in such a good mood?

I was in a pretty good mood myself, I thought, remembering the kiss. What was I thinking? Adrien Agreste and me? As if I don't have enough problems.


	3. Chapter 3

I glared at Adrien's back. He was in the front, right next to the volleyball net. Chloe Bourgeois, who was on the opposite team, was halfheartedly checking him out.  
Chloe was on the cheerleading squad with Alya. I'd always liked her the best out of all the cheer clones. She was probably the second most gorgeous girl in Paris— second only to Alya.  
I glared at Adrien again. It was already Wednesday and he hadn't said any more about our kids in the morgue. In fact, he hadn't said much of anything. He seemed to have urgent business on the other side of the galaxy whenever I appeared.  
What was his damage? It was a kiss between friends. It was no big deal. That's what I tried to tell myself, but it was more than a big deal. It was the kind of kiss poets wrote about, but Adrien Agreste was too stupid to see it. Or maybe he was on the receiving end of fabulous kisses every day of the week.  
It was my turn to serve. Adrien turned to watch me then turned away quickly. I hit the ball as hard as I could. It went straight for Adrien's Head, but he ducked at the last minute and it careened into the net.  
"Sorry," I called, smiling sweetly.  
Alya Césaire had managed to die her P.E. Uniform black. She still had the pendant on as well. I thought Ms. Bustier was going to read her the riot act about her uniform when she pointed to Alya and said, "Why are you wearing that in my P.E class?"  
Alya tried to look innocent, "What do you mean?"  
"Miss Césaire, you are fully aware that i do not allow jewelry to be worn in my gym. It's a safety hazard."  
"I'm sorry," she said, smiling sweetly.  
For a minute, I thought Miss Bustier would take the pendant from Alya, but instead she just blew her whistle again. Figures the Alya would get away without a demerit for dress code infraction. The teachers at school would let her get away with murder, just because she's captain of the cheerleading squad.  
The other team rotated, and it was Chloe's turn to serve. She stepped up to the line and then crumpled to the floor.  
Miss Bustier blew her whistle as a crowd gathered around Chloe as she lay on the floor. I stood in the back and hoped that she was okay.  
"Step back, please," Miss Bustier said. "She needs a little room."  
A minute later, Chloe sat up. "What happened?" she asked.  
"You fainted, Miss Bustier said. "But I'm sure you're fine now."  
"Shouldn't we take her to the nurse or something?" I asked.  
"Yes, yes, of course." Miss Bustier said. "Marinette, could you and Adrien help Chloe to the nurse's office?"  
"Adrien didn't look at me as we each took one of Chloe's arms and helped her to her feet.  
We kept our arms around her as we escorted her to the nurse's. I noticed that Chloe leaned heavily on Adrien's shoulder. She even fluttered her eyelashes, but weakly.  
I knocked on the nurse's door. Nurse Nadja answered and then took over, tsking at the sight of Chloe's pasty complexion.  
"Let's get her on the cot," she said. Then to Chloe she added, "We'll have you right as rain in a minute. Leave it to me."  
As Chloe lay on the cot, I noticed the streak in her hair. Had it gotten paler since we left the gym? Then I remembered that the girl in the morgue had a streak in her hair too. Fad, or something freakier?  
"Will she be okay?" I asked, but Nurse Nadja ignored the question.  
"Thank you for bring her to me," she said, "I'll take care of her now. Marinette, can you ask Ms. Rose in the office to call Chloe's parents?  
I nodded. The big lump of worry in my throat wouldn't let me speak, but Nurse Nadja shooed is out into the hallway and shut the door firmly in our faces, blocking Chloe's prone form.  
Adrien and I stood there and examined the beige walls.  
He cleared his throat, "Mari, we need to talk."  
Typical. He wanted to talk now, if all times. "You heard Nurse Nadja. I have to go to the office."  
"Later then?"  
"Later." I went to the office, delivered my message, and then headed back to gym class."  
The gym was empty. I checked the huge clock that hung on the wall opposite the double doors. The volleyball game had ended without me.  
I wasn't heartbroken about it or anything. Gym was, thankfully, my last class of the day. I mean, who wants to go through the day with sweat sticking to their clothes? Or worse yet, get naked and take a shower in front of twenty of your classmates?  
Mandatory showers had been dropped in the fall, when Lila Rossi protested the archaic practice by staging a sit-in in the gym, where she set up a projector and played the shower scene from Carrie on a continuous loop until the school board caved.  
I headed for the locker room to change. I wondered what Adrien wanted to talk about. The kiss, probably. The thought made me squirm. I hoped He didn't think I'd get all clingy and that he'd have to let me down gently.  
I'd tell him the kiss meant nothing, I decided. Absolutely nothing.  
Still, I didn't want to dwell on the question of who else Adrien had kissed in the morgue. But however much I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Which is why I wasn't quick enough to avoid Ms. Bustier.  
I was walking into the girl's locker room when she found me. She wore designer sweats in white and red trim. Collége François DuPont colors.  
"Marinette," she said. "I was looking forward to having a chat with you."  
"Me?" What did Ms. Bustier want to talk to me about? Then I realized she'd want to know how Chloe was doing.  
"We left her with Nurse Nadja," I said. "Her parents are on the way."  
"Who?" She stared at me.  
I stared back. She couldn't have forgotten about Chloe already. It wasn't everyday someone fainted in gym class, although some have tried faking it.  
"Oh yes the Davis girl."  
"Chloe Bourgeois," I prompted. "Ms. Bustier don't you remember?"  
"Yes, yes, I'm sure she'll be fine," she replied, "And it's Miss Bustier, not Ms. Gotta let them know you're available, and a silly ol' Ms. won't do that, now will it?"  
Miss Bustier? It sounded so last century. I didn't think anybody used that term anymore, except Miss Mcbennett at He post office, and she had to be eighty.  
She studied my troubled face. "You mustn't worry. It caused wrinkles."  
Her face was pink and smooth like a baby's. Clearly Ms. — I mean Miss — Bustier didn't worry much.  
There was a gleam in her eye that I recognized. I'd seen ladies at the skin-care center at Nordstrom with that exact same look.  
"You probably know that not only an I the physical education coach, I am also the cheerleading coach," she continued, "I can tell you are physically fit.  
"I guess," I said. She was looking me up and down so thoroughly that i knew she could probably guess my weight to the nearest ounce.  
I was glad that I'd given up chocolate. Not really, but it sounds better than the truth, which is that I had been jonesing for chocolate the way Manon longed for unlimited cell minutes. My habit was so bad that I finally put a stop to it after I spent a week's worth of lunch money on some imported Swiss dark chocolate, 92 percent pure.  
I'd lost track of what Miss Bustier was saying. Chocolate will do that.  
What she said then shocked me so much that I made her repeat it. "You want me to do what?"  
"I want you to try out for the cheerleading team."  
I was stunned. Me, a cheerleader?  
"I don't think so," I said.  
"Just think about it, Miss Bustier said. "Cheerleading tryouts aren't for another week. With the Davis girl out sick, we're short. We have no choice but to replace her, and fast.  
I didn't bother to try to correct her about Chloe's last name again. I was too busy trying to dodge trying out for cheerleading, but Miss Bustier wouldn't leave till I promised I'd at least think about it. But deep down I knew that I didn't fit in with the cheerleaders. There was no way I was going to tryout.  
When she walked back into her office, I changed into my street clothes, stuffed my gym uniform back into my locker, and gathered up my stuff.  
It had been a weird day and it was time to go home. Unfortunately the weirdness wasn't over.  
Adrien was waiting for me just outside the girls' locker room door, but far enough away that everyone wouldn't think he was a perv like Kim, who drilled a hole in the wall between the locker rooms. He got caught, eventually, but all the girls were really glad that Lila had already won the shower-after-gym battle.  
"It's late," he said. "What did Ms. Bustier want anyway?"  
"Apparently it's Miss Bustier and she wants me to tryout for cheerleading."  
Adrien snorted. "You, a cheerleader?"  
"What's hat supposed to mean? You don't think I'm good enough for the cheerleading squad?" My voice was climbing an octave or so.  
"It's not that," he said. "You jut don't seem like the type."  
"But Alya Césaire is the type?"  
"Well, yeah," Adrien said, "But—"  
"But nothing. I've got news for you. I'm thing out and nothing you say can change my mind." What gave him the right to me me I couldn't tryout? I was just as good as Alya Césaire any day of the week. I took tumbling with her in third grade, as a matter of fact. She had trouble with her cartwheels and was sloppy with her splits.  
I whirled around and stomped outside.  
I was going to tryout, and I was going to make it. I was going to be the best damn cheerleader Collége François DuPont had ever seen.


	4. Chapter 4

I didn't get very far. Adrien caught up with me by the old oak tree in front of the school.  
"Mari, wait up! I want to talk to you," Adrien called as he broke into a jog. I refused to look behind me again, but I could hear the sound of his footsteps as he came closer.  
I forced myself not to run, even though I didn't want to have this conversation with Adrien. Not now. Not ever. Not the letting-her-down-gently bit.  
I knew it by heart. I should, I'd helped him practice it enough times. Adrien was a nice guy. He didn't like to crush the hopes of some freshman who was locker-stalking him. So he had a prepared speech.  
A speech I wasn't going to hear. Not today. In his defense, I knew Adrien had no clue about how I felt about him. Not until we kissed, that is. That may have given him a clue. I sped up.  
His hand touched my shoulder. "Mari?"  
I whirled around. "I get it!"  
He recoiled from the heat in my voice. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I just wanted to talk to you about—"  
"The kiss, I know. We're better off friends, yada yada."  
He looked puzzled. "No, I wanted to talk to you about the girl we ... visited the other night." And then, in case I didn't catch on, he added in a low voice, "At the morgue."  
I stopped long enough to process what he had said. Relief coursed through me. I wasn't going to be subjected to a humiliating It isn't you, it's me speech. "What about her?"  
"I may have some new information," Adrien said.  
A clue. He had to be the cutest Hardy Boy ever, especially when he smiled at me like that.  
"What did you find out?" I started walking again, but this time at a more reasonable pace.  
Adrien fell into step beside me. "I heard my dad talking the other night."  
"And?" I prompted him.  
"She disappeared," he replied.  
"Who?"  
"The girl in the morgue. She's gone."  
"What? When?"  
"Saturday night. Something conked Ivan on the head, and when he woke up, the morgue had been trashed and the body was gone."  
"The body has been missing for four days now?" I yelped. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"  
Adrien shrugged. "It seemed like you were avoiding me." He was actually blushing. Maybe I wasn't the only one who was insecure.  
He leaned in until our shoulders touched. I caught my breath and took in his smell of freshly brewed coffee and dark chocolate. Two of my favorite fragrances. I turned my attention back to what he was saying.  
"I think Dad knows something about the case. Something he's not telling anyone." He stepped out onto the empty street.  
An image flashed in my mind, and I yanked him back onto the sidewalk. "Wait!" I said.  
"What the...?" But he never finished the sentence, because a dark gray hearse squealed around the corner and into the intersection. The driver peeled away, doing about sixty in a thirty-five-mile-an-hour speed zone.  
"Thanks!" Adrien said. "That guy would have hit me if you hadn't stopped me. How did you know?"  
I changed the subject because I didn't know how I knew. The image was in my mind, and a minute later it was happening.  
"Was that Plagg Bone driving?" The Bone family owned the town funeral home, Mort's Mortuary. Mort Bone was a nice man. When he wasn't supervising a viewing, he wore polo shirts and plaid pants and was most often spotted getting in eighteen holes at the town's golf course. But his son Plagg was a different matter. Plagg Bone was trouble. Gorgeous trouble, but trouble just the same.  
"I heard he skipped town after graduation," Adrien said.  
Plagg had been in Tikki's class in high school. He broke my sister's heart their junior year. Great. I didn't want to be the one to tell Tikki he was back in town, although all things considered, she probably already knew.  
We were a few blocks from my house, almost within Tikki's unintentional mental eavesdropping zone. I tugged on Adrien's hand to stop him. Tingles shot up my fingers, my wrists, all the way to my heart. "Back to this disappearing body...," I said.  
A couple of kids from school were headed toward us. I dropped Adrien's hand before they spotted us.  
We fell silent as they passed by. The freshman girl, Katie something, kept glancing back at us over her shoulder. Probably another member of the Adrien Agreste fan club.  
After they were out of earshot, I said, "How does a body disappear without a trace? It can't just get up and walk away."  
"It can't, not if it was anything human," His breath tickled my ear as he lowered his voice.  
My mouth opened, guppylike, as I took in his meaning. Paris was an odd town.  
"What did the body look like?" Adrien asked. "I never even got a chance to talk to you about it after we were busted by Ivan."  
"She looked ... dead," I said, shoving aside the memory of the twitching hand.  
"Did you notice anything unusual?"  
I almost snapped that I didn't spend as much time in the morgue as he did, so I didn't know what was usual for a dead body, but then I looked into his gorgeous green eyes and stopped myself. "She had a tattoo on her left hand and a stamp on her right. The stamp said 'Opal.' Do you think that's her name?"  
Adrien's eyes widened. "Was it a purple stamp?"  
I nodded.  
"That's probably from the Black Opal," he said.  
I had no idea what he was talking about. "The what?"  
"The Black Opal. It's a club in Nice."  
"Oh," I said, feeling totally uncool for not knowing. "You've been there?"  
Adrien nodded. "A bunch of us were there last weekend."  
As well as I knew him, it was easy to forget that Adrien had a whole other, more popular group of friends. The kind of friends who went to clubs in Nice on the weekends instead of sitting at home trying out new recipes.  
"I guess I'll just have to check it out for myself," I said.  
"Mari, I want you to promise me you won't go there alone."  
I looked him in the eye. "I can't promise you that," I said as we approached my house, "but I will promise you that I'll let someone know where I'm going. If I go," I added, just so he didn't think he knew me like the back of his hand or anything.  
Adrien raised his eyebrow and stared at me. We both knew I would be in that club before he could say "VIP room." "So, tomorrow night, then?" he offered.  
"Thanks, Adrien," I said. "You don't know how much I appreciate this."  
"I'd do anything for you, Mari," he said softly. "Just ask."  
The intensity in his eyes unnerved me. My knees were trembling so badly I had to grab on to our picket fence for support.  
"This is me," I said inanely, pushing open the gate. Like Adrien hadn't been to my house a million times. He had, but this time was different.  
Very different, I realized, when Adrien reached over and gave me a peck on the lips. Quick, but tasty. The fast food of kisses.  
"I'll call you later," he said, then jogged away.  
I practically floated up the walkway to the house. Adrien kissed me. Again. He was going to call me.  
Wait. Why was Adrien going to call me? To ask me out or to talk about the case? It was a mystery to me. As I climbed the porch steps, my euphoria deflated. I kicked the door in frustration. Just a little kick, but Manon busted me.  
"You know Mom hates it when you do that," she said.  
"Oh, go psy yourself," I said.  
"Jeesh, you're in a bad mood," Manon said.  
I walked away from her, into the kitchen, but she followed me.  
"I don't understand why, especially since Adrien walked you home and gave you that sweet little kiss on the lips."  
"Don't you have anything better to do than spy on me?" I snapped.  
"No, not really," Manon admitted cheerfully.  
I went from wanting to strangle her to bursting into laughter in ten seconds flat.  
Manon giggled along with me and then went to the fridge and poured a couple of glasses of milk. She peered into the fridge. "I'm hungry and there's nothing to eat."  
"Tikki still hasn't done the grocery shopping," I said.  
"She's been really absentminded lately," Manon commented.  
"I hadn't noticed," I said. I had, but I wasn't going to tell Manon. She'd just use it as ammo the next time she and Tikki got in a tiff. They always made up, but then they somehow always ended up mad at me.  
"Where's Mom?" I asked.  
"She called earlier and said she's working on a case with Chief Agreste. She said they'd grab something out," Manon told me. "Oh, and I forgot to mention. Alya Césaire called."  
"She called here?" My incredulity was clear. She really must be dead, because that was the only way she'd get caught calling me.  
"I thought you were friends," Manon said.  
"No, we're not friends," I said shortly.  
"But you were," Manon persisted. "She used to be here all the time."  
"Yeah, back in sixth grade." I took a gulp of milk. "When I didn't know any better," I added under my breath.  
"She left her number." Manon handed me a slip of paper. "She said it was urgent."  
What did the queen of the dead want now? Whatever it was, I'm sure it involved plenty of pain and humiliation. For me, of course.


	5. Chapter 5

I forgot about Alya's call until after dinner, when I went upstairs to tackle my homework. I decided not to call Her Deadness back. Whatever it was, it could wait until school tomorrow. Unlike the rest of the student body, I wasn't going to jump when she snapped her fingers.

Bad decision.

The next day, I was at my locker right before lunch when Alya strode up, wheeling her backpack-slash-minicoffin behind her.

"Tryouts are in five minutes," she said. Her cheerleading uniform had been dyed black and she wore blood red ribbons in her hair.

I raised an eyebrow. "New school colors?"

"Principal Damocles gave me permission," she said. "Not that it's any of your business."

Then the part about tryouts sunk in. My stomach took the express elevator to my knees, which began to shake.

"But it's lunchtime," I whined. "And nobody told me tryouts were today. Ms., I mean Miss, Bustier said they'd be next week."

"Cheerleaders don't eat lunch," she said. "And plans change. Chloe Bourgeois is in the hospital and two other girls on the squad just came down with mono or something."

"Chloe's in the hospital?"

"That's what I said," she snapped.

I glared at her. "What's the matter with her?"

Her expression thawed. "They don't know what's wrong yet, but she won't be back in time for regionals. Miss Bustier is flipping out. She's insisting we have three alternates instead of just one."

"Who else is sick?"

"Mindy Monson and Kelsey Sebastian. Kelsey and Mindy can't even have visitors. Now quit stalling. Let's go." She started to walk away.

I didn't follow her. My brain was too busy processing all the information she'd given me. It worried me that so many girls on the squad were ill.

I felt a little ill myself at the thought of cheerleader tryouts. Alya whirled around and walked back to where I stood rooted to the spot.

"Let's go," she repeated.

"I can't," I said. "I didn't have time to practice."

"Well, you would have if you had called me back yesterday." She softened when she saw my face. "Don't look so scared. Look, I know we haven't been the best of friends or anything lately."

Or anything?  
What a vast understatement.

"The team needs you," Alya continued. "You don't think I remember, but I do. You were a gymnast, a good one."

My gymnastics career ended early, when an enormous growth spurt put me out of the running. Good gymnasts weren't tall, at least not any I knew.

Now the only gymnastics I did was when Manon "accidentally" locked me out of the house and I had to climb up the trellis to my bedroom window to get in.

"I'm out of practice," I said. "And I don't want to try out in front of a bunch of people." The football players often sat in on cheering tryouts. What if Adrien saw me? I'd be a nervous wreck.

"Miss Bustier convinced Principal Damocles that this was an emergency situation," Alya said. "It's a closed tryout." She gave me a knowing look. "Adrien Agreste won't be judging your cartwheels today."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's all over school," she said, but then glanced at her watch. "We're late."

"What's all over school?" I asked.

But she ignored the question and instead grabbed my arm and pointed me toward the gym. "Go change. You have about thirty seconds."

I found myself running toward the gym.

"It'll be fun," she hollered after me. "You'll see. We're a nice group of girls, if you get to know us."

The problem was, I did know Alya, at least I thought I did. And I didn't trust her one little bit. Her words had been comforting, though, and unlocked the paralyzing fright that had washed over me at the thought of deliberately drawing attention to myself.

I threw on my P.E. uniform, which was wrinkled and slightly pungent. I thanked my lucky stars that Adrien wouldn't be seeing this debacle.

Then a thought occurred to me. What if Alya was setting me up? Call me paranoid, but it wouldn't be the first time she'd punked me. What if I tried out and it was just some big joke? Miss Bustier had talked to me about joining, but that didn't mean this tryout was real.

So I tiptoed down the hall and opened the gym door just a crack.

Alya had been telling the truth. No letter jackets in sight. Miss Bustier, Mr. Damocles, and what was left of the cheer squad were sitting at a long table. In front of them was a row of girls, most of whom looked as scared as I felt.

I slipped in next to Sabrina, who gave me a confident smile, then gave the thumbs-up to Alya, who ignored her. Sabrina wore black from the top of her dyed hair to the Chucks she wore on her feet. She also rattled a little when she moved. I squinted and noticed what looked like chicken bones in her hair. At least I  
hoped they were chicken bones. The rest of the girls were wearing designer sweats or butt cuts and silky camisoles (mostly in black, the color of choice these days), outfits to enhance their attractiveness. I looked like I was wearing gym clothes that had been in my locker for two weeks, which I was.

I stood there for the next half hour while Alya called out names. She consulted her clipboard officially, which was bogus, because Collége Fançois DuPont was a small school. There were only a hundred people in our class. I'd bet money she knew the name and probably the bra size of every girl standing there.

I stretched while the other girls tried out. She finally called my name. Last, of course. I had pent-up energy to burn, so I started out with a couple of round offs and then went into a midair toe touch. I ended with a split. My muscles protested a little, but I ignored them. I stood up to show them what else I had (not much), when Miss Bustier stopped me.

"Thank you, Marinette," she said. "I believe we've seen enough."

Alya added, "Thank you all for coming. The results will be posted today after school."

I stood there and fumed. It had to be a joke. I'd barely had the chance to warm up before my tryout was over. I waited until everyone else had left and then walked over to Alya.

"Thanks a lot," I said. "Why even bother having me try out? You knew I was nervous and you made me go last."

My voice sounded whiny, even to my own ears, but Alya answered me patiently. "I had you try out because you're the best we've got. And I made you go last because it wouldn't be fair to the other girls if I hadn't. Some of them  
haven't had eight years of gymnastics, Marinette. If I had let you go first, it would have intimidated girls like Sabrina, who never even took basic tumbling."

"Oh, okay," I said, feeling a tiny bit ashamed for snapping at her.

My stomach growled loudly. Alya stared at me.

"I know, I know. Cheerleaders don't eat lunch."

She bent down and rifled through her coffin. My eye was drawn to the necklace she'd worn ever since she came back from summer vacation a changed girl. It looked old—ancient even. The silver was slightly tarnished, but I could make out some sort of symbol in the middle of the pendant.

She came back up with a couple of granola bars. I quickly averted my eyes from her necklace. She didn't seem to notice my interest.

Instead, she handed me one of the bars. "Cheerleaders are prepared for any emergency. We can't have you fainting in class."

"Thanks," I said, surprised.

Now that I was alone with Alya, I finally got up the nerve to ask her something I'd been wondering about for a while. "What's up with all the black clothes?"

"Since when are you the fashion police?" she snapped. "I can dress however I want, Marinette."

"I know, but it's just so different from the way you used to look," I said. "Did anything happen this summer that brought on the change?"

For a brief moment, Alya looked vulnerable, almost like the girl who I used to call my friend, but in an instant, her mask of cool was back. "No," she said. "I just wanted a change, okay?"

"And the pendant?" Now that I was up close and personal with Her Deadness, I could finally get a good look at the symbol on it. "Is that an ankh?" All I knew about the ankh symbol was that it was Egyptian. And that was only because we studied Egypt in seventh grade.

"Yes," she answered, now beyond testy. "God, Mari, what's with all the questions? I don't have time for this." And with that, she stormed off, her coffin trailing behind her.

"See you later," I called.

"Yes, you will," she replied. I wasn't sure if that was good news or bad news.

After school, I spotted Adrien hanging out by my locker. He was deep in conversation with Alya's boyfriend, Nino.

The sight of Adrien set my heart thumping. I watched him out of the corner of my eye while I grabbed the books I'd need for homework later.

He broke off his conversation and hurried over. "Hey, Mari, where have you been? I looked for you in the cafeteria at lunch."

I turned to speak to him, leaving my locker door open.

"What do you want, Adrien?" Despite my best efforts to control it, my voice was noticeably cool.

"Nino, Alya, and I want to take you out tonight," he said.

I whirled around, furious. I didn't need a consolation dinner. It was bad enough that Adrien didn't think I was the cheerleader type. There was no need to rub my abysmal tryout in my face.

My locker door slammed shut, but I hadn't touched it. In fact, I found out later that every open door in the school slammed shut. Including Sam Tsai's, who still had his hand in his locker at the time.

"Why exactly would you want to do that?" I hissed. Igloos were warmer than my voice.

"I thought you might want to celebrate," Adrien said. His voice matched mine, ice chip for ice chip. "Do you want to go out or not? I mentioned to Nino and Alya that we might be heading for the Black Opal tonight, and Alya thought it might be a great way to congratulate the newest cheerleader."

"Celebrate? Cheerleader? Do you mean...?"

"Didn't you know?" he grinned at me, finally catching on to my utter cluelessness. "You made the cheerleading team."

My life was becoming surreal. I looked around for the cameras but didn't see any. Yesterday, plain old Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Today, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, cheerleader, who was going to a trendy club with the hottest guy in school (even if it was to catch an evildoer). I thought it seemed too good to be true—and it turned out I was absolutely right.


	6. Chapter 6

I wondered if Adrien still would have asked me out if I hadn't made the squad. I wanted to go out with Adrien on a real date. Badly. But this wasn't a real date. It was an investigation, a way to help my mom with the case.  
I worried that Adrien, too, could have an ulterior motive for this date. Maybe I was just his camouflage and he was really trying to get closer to Alya, so he could snake her right out from under Nino's cute but less-than-bright nose. It didn't sound like the Adrien I knew, but wiser men than he had done some crazy stuff in the name of love. Adrien seemed to have forgotten he ever had a crush on Alya, but I hadn't.  
Manon and her friend Candy were hanging out in the family room when I got home. When I appeared, there was that sudden pause that happens when you enter a room where the people in it have been talking about you.  
"If it isn't my little sister, the varsity cheerleader," Manon's voice was treacle sweet.  
I hadn't said anything about tryouts because I was sure I wouldn't have a chance in Paris of making the squad. But I knew Manon was probably upset that I hadn't said anything. Popularity was her thing, and cheerleading was veering into her territory.  
"How did you find out so quickly?" I blurted out. "I didn't find out until Adrien told me after school just now." And Manon didn't have a class last period, a privilege only for seniors.  
"Tikki is home," she answered. "She overheard the news from some kid walking home. The girl went right by the house. Whoever it was, she wasn't too happy that you made cheerleading and she didn't."  
Manon's eyes narrowed. "And Adrien told you? You two have been hanging out a lot lately." I could practically see the air quotes in the way she said "hanging out."  
"We're just friends," I said. Lame, I knew, but the truth was. I didn't know what was going on with Adrien and me. If I admitted as much, Manon would just tell me to ask him, and I couldn't think of anything more terrifying than  
that.  
"Friends, huh?" Candy said. "That's not what I heard." Candy couldn't keep a secret, so she didn't even bother to try. Another reason for not wanting to talk in front of Manon's curious friend.  
That's the downside (one of many) of small-town life. Gossip was a recreational sport in Paris. I wondered if Alya had been the one doing the talking. She'd certainly been the culprit back in sixth grade, which was something I'd never forgiven her for.  
Manon, for once, didn't move in for the kill. "We have more important things to talk about than my little sis's boring love life, Candy," she said, with a sniff.  
Thankfully, Candy took the hint and they moved on to dissecting someone else. I made my escape upstairs. I needed to figure out what to wear. I knew Alya would appear in something fabulous, but I had no idea what to wear to a club.  
But first, I had to ask Tikki something. I knocked on her bedroom door.  
"Come in, Mari," she called. "Congratulations on making the cheerleading squad," she said without even looking up from her laptop.  
"Thanks," I said. I cleared my throat. "Hey, I need to ask you something."  
"Shoot," she said. Tikki was the smartest person I knew. Talking to her was better than a trip to the library.  
"What do you know about the ankh?"  
"Ancient Egyptian symbol?" Tikki thought for a moment. "I'm pretty sure it represents immortality." She typed something into her computer. Gotta love that Google. "Here we go. It says here that tomb paintings often show the deities of the afterlife giving the ankh to a mummy. It's like giving them the gift of life."  
My heart jumped. "So you're saying it brings dead people back to life? Like ... vampires?"  
Tikki shut her laptop with a loud snap. "Vampires? Mari, what are you getting at?"  
"Nothing," I said. I was determined to solve the mystery without the benefit of my sisters' psychic powers. Still, I couldn't resist asking Tikki how it was going on her end. "So, have you been able to help Mom with that case?"  
Tikki shook her head and sighed. "Not much," she said. "Not yet, anyway." She looked eager to change the subject. "It's getting late. I've got to go." She rose from the bed.  
"Where are you off to tonight?"  
"Just the library." After a quick once-over in the mirror, she pulled on a jacket and rushed past me to the stairs.  
"Aren't you forgetting something?" I dangled her backpack in front of her. Tikki never went to the library without it.  
"Oh, yeah," she said and rushed back to grab it. "Thanks." She really was absentminded lately.  
After Tikki was gone, I went to my room to get ready. I rifled through my closet and despaired at the idea of finding anything remotely stylish. The thought briefly crossed my mind that I could borrow something from Manon, but then I remembered the Dairy Queen incident and decided against it. I looked at the pile of clothes on my bed. There had to be at least one outfit suitable for clubbing.  
I was just about to give up when a door slammed downstairs, and a few minutes later, Manon appeared in my doorway.  
"I knew it," she crowed. "You do have a date with a hot guy. Adrien Agreste, huh?"  
"Where's Candy?" I asked.  
"She left," Manon said. "I knew you'd never spill in front of her, so I told her I had homework. Candy's allergic to homework."  
I breathed a sigh of relief and said to her, "It's not exactly a date. We're going to the Black Opal to investigate."  
"Interesting," Manon said. "What are you investigating, each other?"  
"Grow up, Manon!" I snarled, "We're trying to help Mom and Chief Agreste on the case," I said.  
"Is that all you are planning on doing?" she said with a mischievous glint in her eye.  
"Please stop it. I'm nervous enough about this. And I have no idea what to wear."  
She studied the pile on my bed with a look of concentration. "No, no, and no!" she said, and a T-shirt, a pair of capris, and a dress floated back into my closet and hung themselves back up neatly.  
One by one, my clothes returned to the closet, until there was a small pile left on the bed.  
Manon snapped her fingers. "Wait a minute. I think I have a top that will match your eyes perfectly." A minute later, a silky periwinkle top floated into my room. "Here, try this on with this skirt," she said.  
"I just thought of something," I said. "I can't go! I haven't made dinner." Suddenly, I was terrified at the prospect of spending time with Adrien, even though it wasn't a real date. But Manon caught on.  
"Don't worry about it," she said. "You and Adrien have been friends for ages. You'll have a great time, so stop worrying."  
"Thanks, Manon," I said. This was the side of Manon I hadn't seen in a long time. I wasn't sure what had brought out her good side, but I was grateful something had.  
"And I'll handle dinner," she added. She chuckled at my look of horror. "Don't worry, I won't touch your precious pots and pans. I'll order a pizza."  
"What time is he going to pick you up?" she asked.  
"He said seven." What if he didn't show?  
Manon looked at the clock. It read 5:00. "You'd better get in the shower," she said, shoving me toward the bathroom. "You don't have much time."  
Not much time? It took me fifteen minutes to get ready normally, half an hour when I really worked at it. But that was before Manon got ahold of me.  
After a long shower, I found Manon inspecting three outfits she'd deemed worthy of a first date.  
"The Black Opal won't let you in unless you dress to impress," she warned.  
I noticed that the denim skirt I bought last month was the only option from my own wardrobe. She'd paired it with a burgundy boho top with full sleeves and with heels that could double as an assault weapon. There was also a short deep blue dress with a plunging neckline that I vetoed immediately. I wanted Adrien to like me for more than my cleavage. The third outfit included Tikki's favorite jeans, the superexpensive ones that fit me perfectly, Manon's periwinkle top, and shoes I could actually walk in. Naturally, I chose the last outfit.  
Manon nodded her approval. "Now get dressed and I'll do your hair and makeup."  
As Manon did her magic, I wondered if all the primping was worth it. "There," she said. "All done. Take a look."  
I stepped in front of the full-length mirror hanging on my closet door. I was speechless. Manon had worked a miracle. My eyes magically looked bigger and bluer than ever, my lashes were impossibly long, and my hair looked sexily tousled, not the usual flyaway mess. For the first time, I could see my own resemblance to my glamorous mother and sisters.  
"It's a good thing Mom's working late again tonight," she commented. "She'd have a heart attack to see you looking like this. She still thinks you're five."  
"Manon, thanks so much!" I gave her a hug. She hugged me back, just for a second, and then said, "Oh, don't worry. I'll think of some way you can repay me."  
Whatever torture she had dreamed up in repayment would totally be worth it, I thought, but I knew Manon well enough not to say it out loud.  
The doorbell rang and I looked at my watch. It was five to seven.  
"He's early," Manon said. "He's got it bad."  
We started for the door, but then I thought of something. "Hey, Manon?"  
"Yeah?" She paused at the top of the stairs.  
I gestured to my borrowed finery. "This isn't going to float off my back at midnight, is it?"  
"Of course not," she replied. "I gave you permission to borrow this outfit. And besides, Adrien Agreste is a million times hotter than Nathaniel Kurtzberg."  
Manon went into the kitchen while I answered the door. For a minute, I stared at Adrien and forgot to breathe. He looked amazing. His shirt matched his green eyes. We locked gazes, and neither of us would look away.  
"Hi," he said, smiling softly. "Wow."  
"Hi," I said, still looking into his eyes.  
"Are you ready to go?" he asked. "Or maybe I should come in and say hi to your mom before we leave."  
I opened the door wider to let him in. "Mom's not home from work yet. I think she's still working on that case."  
Adrien shifted his feet nervously but took one step inside. "Really? Dad's still working, too," he said. "Maybe we should just go, then."  
I grabbed my purse. "Manon, we're leaving. Let Mom know where I am, okay?"  
She came out of the kitchen with the cordless in her hand. "Have fun, you guys." Then, into the phone, "That's a large pie, with everything, extra cheese, and lots of anchovies."  
I made a face. I couldn't help it. I hated anchovies, but Manon loved them. It was her chance to munch on the fishy morsels to her heart's content.  
"You don't like anchovies, huh?" Adrien said. "I'll have to remember that for next time."  
Next time, huh? There was going to be a next time. I smiled at him. This was going to be a great evening. That's what I thought, anyway. I was definitely not the psychic in the family.


	7. Chapter 7

The evening started to go downhill as soon as I got into Adrien's car and saw Alya sitting in the front seat. Nino was in the backseat, and he looked about as happy as I felt, which was not at all.

Adrien opened the rear passenger door for me and shot me an apologetic look. "Alya gets carsick in the back," he explained.

She had spent plenty of time in backseats, I thought. Of course, the car wasn't usually moving at the time.

"I hope you don't mind," Alya said sweetly. "Queasy stomach."

"I know the feeling," I muttered, but in a louder voice I said, "Not at all. Nino and I can talk about"—I searched frantically for something we could possibly have in common, until I realized he was in my English class—"English."

Alya laughed. "That's kind of a sore subject," she said.

Nino looked at me, stony faced. "I'm flunking it."

"Oh," I said.

On the way to the club, Alya and Adrien chatted easily in the front of the car, while Nino and I maintained an awkward silence in the backseat. I frowned when I noticed how often she managed to touch Adrien's arm in the course of casual conversation.

She was dressed entirely in alabaster white, from her top to her gorgeous leather boots. Who buys white leather boots? You could wear them maybe once without getting them dirty. The Césaires did have money to burn, but it seemed excessive, even for Alya.

She caught me staring at her outfit and said, "White is the color of mourning in China." So she was going to dress for death in all seven continents? And designer dead, I'd wager.

The ankh around her neck gleamed in the dark, and I remembered what Tikki had told me about the history of the symbol. Why was Alya wearing a symbol of the afterlife? And why the extreme new look? She hadn't told me the truth earlier. There was more to her new look than boredom. I just hoped it didn't involve vampirism.

Adrien's eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. "Mari, are you okay back there? You've been awfully quiet."

"I'm fine, Adrien," I said. But I wasn't. Inside, I was kicking myself for ever agreeing to this. It was obvious that Alya planned to monopolize Adrien for the rest of the night. That's why she had been so nice to me before. Just to lure me into a false sense of security.

I wanted to make it through the night with a shred of dignity intact. I was not going to let her see that she was getting to me.

The club parking lot was crowded already, but Adrien managed to find a spot at the far end. To my surprise, he came to my door and opened it for me, before helping me out. He left Alya to fend for herself until Nino caught a clue and rushed over to open her door.

Adrien kept my hand in his as we walked to the door of the club. There was a long line, but Alya marched to the front and immediately started flirting with the guy at the door.

The rest of us hung back, but then I heard someone calling my name. "Mari? Marinette Dupain-Cheng, is that you?" The guy at the door was Plagg Bone.

"Uh, hi, Plagg," I said. What was he doing working at the Black Opal when his family had a perfectly good mortuary? And why was he being so nice? When he had dated my sister, I wasn't sure that he could tell Manon and me apart. Or even wanted to. He had been quiet, surly even, whenever he'd been at the house to pick up Tikki. Now he stood there beaming at me like we were long- lost pals.

"Are these your friends?" His glowing eyes gleamed.

I could understand what Tikki had seen in him. He was handsome and tall, with pale skin, dark black hair, and those strange eyes.

I nodded and Plagg held open the velvet rope. "Go ahead." He gestured toward the door. "I can't make an old friend wait in this line."

I glanced at the crowd and hesitated. There were a few groans here and there, but most people seemed resigned to us cutting the line. And I had a curfew. If I didn't cut in line, I might not have any time to snoop around.

Alya grabbed my arm and propelled me forward. "You heard the man, Dupain-Cheng."

Plagg stamped our hands and I checked the mark. It matched the one the dead girl had. Then Alya swept through the door with Nino right behind her. Adrien and I trailed behind them.

She was getting plenty of stares. She looked like a gravedigger's dream date in her strapless metallic white top and scrap of lace that passed for a skirt, fishnet thigh-high stockings and those white boots. Fortunately, she left her coffin at home tonight—too unwieldy for the dance floor. Nino was handing out dirty looks like Halloween candy. I hoped there wouldn't be a brawl.

It was early enough that there were still a few tables available. We grabbed a booth, and Alya and I slid into the middle with Nino on her side and Adrien on mine. I was surprised that she hadn't found a way to have a guy on either side of her, but the night was still young.

Nino and Adrien talked football while Alya looked to see if anyone was noticing her (they were) and I watched the crowd. I wondered if any of these people had been here on the same night as the dead girl. Maybe I could talk to some of them and find out.

But at the moment, I was too nervous to say anything. Adrien had dropped my hand when we sat down, but he kept one hand on my knee. It was distracting, not entirely in a bad way. I reminded myself that I was here for sleuthing, not flirting. But I didn't take his hand off my knee.

A server came by and took our order as we waited for the first band to take the stage. "What can I get you?" he asked, after introducing himself and rattling off the drinks specials. He didn't seem to notice or care that our hands were clearly marked with the underage stamp. We ordered sodas and appetizers, but our waiter didn't seem to be in much of a hurry to trot back to the kitchen to place it.

"Are you here for Side Effects May Vary?" he asked.

"What?" I said.

"The band," he said. "They're a local favorite."

Alya said, "And I heard they just signed a major record deal."

The club started to fill up. I recognized a couple of kids from school. Alya's best friend, Jordan, was on the dance floor with a couple of the other cheerleaders.

Sabrina made a beeline for us, dragging her mini-coffin behind her. Only Sabrina would bring something the size of a small car to a club. There was some swearing involved when the coffin thumped against random shins and feet as Sabrina made her way toward us.

I relaxed a little bit. Adrien wasn't hanging on Alya's every word. In fact, it seemed like he barely noticed her at all.

I made an attempt at friendliness. "So have you ever heard Side Effects May Vary play before?" I asked.

Alya seemed amused by the question. "Of course. We come here all the time," she said.

"You and Nino?" Somehow, the Black Opal didn't seem to be Nino's scene, despite the fact that he was one of the popular kids.

"No, Jordan, Chloe, and me mostly, but some of the other girls on the squad sometimes."

"I come here all the time, too," Sabrina bragged.

"I've never been here before," I said casually, hoping for more information.

"Big surprise," Sabrina muttered.

I ignored her. "So, have you ever seen anyone ... strange hanging around here?" I asked. It was entirely possible that the dead girl met her killer at this very club.

Alya looked at me like I had two heads. "Strange? Take a look around, Marinette," she snapped.

She had a point. The room was filled with some unusual people, even by Paris standards. There was a guy wearing a clown costume, a woman who glowed like her skin had been covered in phosphorus, and a beautiful girl in a fire engine red cowboy hat, a bikini top, and shorts. None of them looked like killers, but you never know.

But before our semicourteous conversation could deteriorate any further, a tall man wearing a baggy checked suit and creepers on his feet strode to the microphone. "Please give it up for Side Effects May Vary!" he said.

The audience went wild, whistling and cheering.

The band took the stage and started things off with a rousing cover of the Ramones' "Rock 'n' Roll High School." The lead singer had a raspy, sexy voice, but the bass guitarist was truly eye-catching. She wore a naughty nurse's uniform paired with leopard-print tights, six-inch white plastic heels, and a towering hot pink hairdo that was obviously a wig. Her makeup looked like she had applied it with a trowel, but even with gunk on her face, there was something about her that seemed familiar.

"Let's go!" Alya said, cutting off Sabrina midgrovel. "Sabrina, stay here and guard our table. We're going to dance." She grabbed Nino's hand and dragged him out of the booth. Then she turned and put a hand on her hip. "Mari, are you coming?"

I looked at Adrien and raised one eyebrow in question. He took my hand and we followed Nino and Alya to the dance floor. I felt sorry for Sabrina, but she seemed perfectly thrilled to be allowed to play watchdog for Alya.

Adrien was a great dancer. A lot of guys weren't, at least in my limited experience. Take Nino, for instance. He danced like he was running for a touchdown. Zig, zag, shoulder tucked in. He'd make a motion like he was throwing a long pass and then start the sequence over again.

Alya, on the other hand, had natural rhythm and some slick moves. She looked pretty lively for a girl obsessed with death.

We danced until the band took a break. I watched the bassist as she walked offstage. There was definitely something familiar about her. It nagged at me, but as we went back to the table, I saw a face that was even more familiar.

Tikki was at the Black Opal! Definitely unlike my studious sister. She didn't see me, but made a beeline for Plagg in the corner. It was safe to say Tikki knew her ex was in town. By the way she was kissing him, I wasn't too sure he

was her ex.

She had told me earlier that she was going to the library, yet here she was, practically devouring the mortician's son. Public displays of affection weren't like Tikki at all. "I'm going to the bathroom," I said.

"Mari," Adrien said, "maybe I should go with..." He trailed off when he saw my look of mortification. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I will," I said. But as I headed for Tikki and Plagg, they left their table and disappeared down the hallway I assumed led to the bathroom. I took off after them, but working my way through the crowd slowed me down.

By the time I made it to the hallway, there was no sign of them. A couple was pressed against each other in the corner by the pay phone, but it wasn't Plagg and Tikki. A distinct chemical odor wafted down the hall. It smelled like Aqua Net hairspray and cigarettes. I stood by the bathroom door, deciding what to do next. That's when I heard the scream. It sounded like it was coming from the women's restroom.

I ran into the bathroom. As I entered, I passed someone going the other way and caught a glimpse of white as she ran by me.

At first I thought the bathroom was empty, and badly in need of some cleaning. The aerosol odor was stronger in there, but mingling with that odor was another smell: stale beer and vomit.

I turned to leave, but caught a glimpse of a cowboy hat lying on the floor in one of the bathroom stalls. And that's when I found the body.


	8. Chapter 8

I froze, unable to move for a moment. Please, don't let it be Tikki, my mind repeated over and over as I drew closer to the crumpled figure lying on the floor of the bathroom stall. I opened the stall door slowly, reluctant to see. I could tell right away that it wasn't my sister, and I could breathe again.  
I stooped down and gingerly checked for a pulse. Her wrist was so cold that I thought for sure she was already dead. Just when I was ready to give up, I felt a weak beat.  
Then I heard, ever so faintly,  
Help me. Please help me,  
but the sound was in my head, not in my ears. Then nothing. Whatever or whoever I had heard had stopped the transmission. Either I was losing my mind or there was something seriously spooky going on here. I stared at the girl, but she was still unconscious.  
I ran outside and prayed that the couple by the pay phone would still be there. They were. "Get help!" I yelled. "There's an unconscious girl in the bathroom." They jumped apart and stared at me. "Go!" I shouted.  
"I'm a paramedic," the guy said. "Off duty," he added, in case I thought he was slacking on the job. "Show me where she is. Vanessa, you call an ambulance." Vanessa nodded and rummaged for her cell phone. Paramedic guy and I raced back to the bathroom and he immediately started CPR. God, why hadn't I learned CPR? I stood there, feeling completely helpless.  
It seemed like it took hours, but I finally heard the sound of the sirens coming near.  
Down the hall the lights were up, and club-goers were milling around, trying to get a glimpse of the excitement.  
I waited until the paramedics had steered the gurney through the bathroom door, then I headed back to our table. Alya rushed up to me. "Mari, where have you been? We heard a girl had been murdered. Adrien was going crazy, but I told him you were probably fine."  
"I was a little tied up," I said.  
"If you didn't want to go out with him, you should have just said no," she said. "You didn't have to avoid him all night."  
"I wasn't avoiding him," I said, "and besides, this wasn't a real date."  
Alya looked unconvinced. So did Adrien, who appeared at that minute. I wondered if he heard the last part of our conversation. It was hard to tell. His face was expressionless, but he looked like he was holding something in check.  
Explanation time. "I found the girl everyone is talking about," I blurted out to him. "When I went to the bathroom. But she wasn't murdered. She was still alive when I found her, just unconscious."  
His expression softened a little. "Are you okay?"  
"I'm fine," I assured him. He put an arm around me and gave me a hug, which I took as an encouraging sign. "Jesus, Mari," he said into my ear, "I was worried."  
"I didn't mean to worry you," I said, "but I had to get help, and then I couldn't just leave her there alone." I shuddered. "It was awful, Adrien."  
"Why don't we take off?" he suggested. "I don't think anybody's in the mood to stay anyway."  
Alya and Nino had drifted over to a cluster of kids from school, so we went over to round them up.  
"Let's get going," Adrien said. "Mari's had a rough night."  
"Marinette found that girl," Samantha told Sabrina. It'd be all over school tomorrow.  
"Really?" Sabrina said eagerly. "What was it like?"  
"I don't really want to talk about it," I said. "I just want to go home."  
Surprisingly, Alya didn't argue. As we left the club, though, Adrien dad pulled up in a squad car. Just great.  
I looked over at Adrien and he gave my hand a comforting squeeze. My mother wouldn't be happy when Chief Agreste told her what happened at the club.  
Chief Agreste said, "It came over the scanner about an incident at the Black Opal and I remembered you were taking your date here tonight. You kids okay?"  
"We're fine," Adrien said, "but Marinette found her. She's a little shaken up, so I'm taking her home."  
"She's still alive," I offered, "or at least she was when the ambulance got here." I shuddered as I remembered the faint voice calling for help. A voice only in my head, I reminded myself.  
The chief looked troubled. "Marinette, I want you and your friends to be careful," he said. "It's beginning to seem like someone is preying on young girls around here."  
"I'm always careful," I said. I didn't mention that I was also determined to catch the culprit before someone else ended up dead.  
Chief Agreste asked me a few questions, and I answered them as best I could. I didn't tell him about the weird feeling I'd had—like I'd been in someone else's head.  
"Thank you, Marinette," he said. "I'll call you if I have anything else. But we'll probably learn more when we talk to the victim. Adrien, make sure you get her home safe."  
We said good-bye to Adrien's dad and walked back to the car. Adrien opened the car door—the front passenger door this time—and helped me inside. Alya fumed at the curb for a second and then stomped to the back door, tapping her foot until Nino finally opened it for her.  
No one spoke on the ride home. We got to Alya's house first. "Mari, meet me in the gym at 7:00 A.M. sharp," she instructed, before getting out of the car. "There's a pep rally tomorrow afternoon and I have to go over the routine with you." With that, she flounced up the sidewalk toward her dark house.  
Nino got out of the car, too, and came around to the driver's side window.  
"Later, bro," he said. "Thanks for the ride."  
"Don't you need a ride home?" I asked. Adrien gave me a look, the kind of look you give a clueless little kid. Oh.  
"Alya's parents are out of town," Sean said with a wink, just in case I still hadn't figured it out.  
Adrien played it cool, but I saw a tinge of red creep into his cheeks. He put the car in gear and we continued home. I hadn't had time to think about it before, but this was the first time Adrien and I had been alone all night.  
Despite the fact that it had been the least romantic first date in the history of first dates, I still wanted Adrien to kiss me.  
He seemed to be taking his time about it, though. I draped my arm casually over the seat, so close that I could almost touch the curls that caressed the nape of his neck. He kept his attention on the road. I was glad he was a safe driver and all, but there were plenty of scenic views, aka romantic spots to park.  
Then again, I'd seen enough horror movies to know that making out in a secluded spot was just inviting trouble, especially when there was someone or something out there attacking teenage girls. Going home like Chief Agreste had ordered suddenly held tremendous appeal.  
But then I saw something on the road in front of us that changed my mind. A silver gray luxury car.  
"Adrien!" I shrieked. "Follow that car! I think Tikki is in it."  
"Tikki?" Ryan asked. "But isn't that Plagg Bone's car?"  
Naturally, he would remember the car that had almost run him over. I hadn't told Adrien about seeing Tikki and Plagg together at the club or their conspicuous absence following the attack, either.  
It wasn't hard to trail them, because there weren't too many cars on the road at that time of night and the full moon gave us plenty of illumination, but Adrien kept way back so they wouldn't notice us following them.  
"What is she doing?" I said crossly. Why was Tikki getting involved with Plagg again? It took her more than a year to get over him last time.  
The car pulled into the alleyway behind Mort's Mortuary and stopped.  
"I'll park around the corner," Adrien said, "preferably on a nice deserted side street. There's no sense in advertising our presence."  
He took my hand as we walked, but I was too worried about Tikki to enjoy it very much. As we drew closer to the back entrance of the mortuary, another car door slammed.  
I counted twelve other cars; thirteen, including the one Tikki had arrived in. Thirteen, a mortician's dozen.  
Something was definitely up at Mort's tonight. I wouldn't put it past Plagg to have a party in his father's place of business, but it wasn't like Tikki to attend something like that. Although love does make people do crazy stuff. Or in my sister's case, stupid stuff like dating Plagg in the first place. I still couldn't believe he dumped her without a word, just stopped calling and started avoiding.  
Adrien waited a few minutes and then tried the back door. It creaked open with an absurdly loud noise.  
We could hear the low murmur of voices coming from somewhere at the front of the building. This was it.  
We tip-toed down the hall until we ended up in one of the smaller viewing rooms. The smell of flowers was strong. I hoped we weren't crashing some strange late-night wake.  
The door was open and I went through as quietly as I could. Adrien followed behind me, but I don't think he was happy about it. We ducked into a small alcove and hoped they wouldn't see us.  
The room was in shadow, lit only by the candlelight from a couple of candelabra set up near a makeshift altar of some kind. Definitely not a wake.  
Tikki was surrounded by creatures of the night. I couldn't believe that what I was seeing was real, but it was. I turned to Adrien and saw the same dawning realization on his face. Adrenaline pumped through my body. If creatures like this walked among us, anything was possible.  
I counted four werewolves, at least six vampires, and a couple of banshees. The only person I recognized was Mrs. Mason, the president of my mom's garden club. I couldn't figure out what she was doing there, dressed in her orthopedic shoes and jogging suit, until I saw her wand. Mom had always wondered how Mrs. Mason managed to grow roses the size of a bread plate every year.  
A tall hooded figure at the front of the altar said, "The Paris City Council meeting will now come to order." He lifted a bony hand and pulled his hood back. Instead of a face, an ivory skull gleamed in the candlelight.  
City council? That was definitely not our mayor. At least I hoped it wasn't. It was hard to tell, since the guy was literally skin and bones, minus the skin.  
"We have a serious problem on our hands," he continued. "As many of you already know, a body has disappeared from the morgue. A number of recent attacks in the area suggest that we're dealing with a vampire."  
There was a rumble of voices as everyone began to talk at once. Skull banged on a gavel until there was silence.  
"Hey!" shouted a short female vampire wearing too much lipstick (at least I hoped it was lipstick) and too little clothing. "We have nothing to do with this."  
A tall undead male dressed in tight black satin pants and a frilly white shirt nodded in agreement. "We've been living in seclusion and following the rules the council set up for our kind for years. We are not responsible for these attacks."  
A banshee said, in a voice like nails across a blackboard, "They didn't find fang marks on any of the bodies, so why do you think it's a vampire attacking these kids? There are many other species who feed upon the young."  
Back in the alcove, pressed up against Adrien and trying not to breathe too loudly, I was wondering the same thing. I had personally seen the necks of both the girl at the morgue and the girl at the club. No bite marks on either one of them.  
" The culprit is a different kind of vampire," the calorie-challenged leader boomed, "a psionic vampire. Instead of blood, this type of vampire drains its victims of their energy, their life force."  
The group of blood suckers seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief that they wouldn't be getting stakes through their hearts tonight. Although when I thought about it, did vampires have breath enough to sigh?  
"So this vampire," said a doubting voice in the crowd, "it sucks souls? How does it do it?"  
"Psionic vampires are rare, but very powerful," explained Skull. "The vampire hypnotizes its victim before sucking out the soul. The vamp can also create fledglings by sharing its essence, much in the same way that a blood vampire would create a fledgling by sharing its blood. Or it could be gradually feeding from several victims who don't remember a thing. The victims' energy gets lower and lower until, one day, they end up like that girl in the morgue."  
I shivered and huddled closer to Adrien.  
"The demon must be destroyed," said a werewolf in the crowd.  
Mrs. Mason said, "If we kill the head vampire, any fledglings will become human again. But if we don't, we'll have a whole renegade colony."  
Skull nodded. "We think the girl who disappeared from the morgue is the vampire's fledgling. If we can find her, she'll lead us to the vampire. We'll take a vote on it," Skull intoned. "All those for extinction of the psionic vampire, say aye."  
The room rang with affirmatives, but the cluster of vampires protested loudly.  
Skull banged on his gavel. When the room grew silent, he said, "Those opposed, please say nay."  
"Nay," shouted the vampires. "We do not condone the wanton destruction of one of our kind," the tall male vampire said.  
"I must remind you that all paranormal creatures have agreed to abide by the decisions of this council," Skull said. "Do you formally challenge this authority?"  
The woman vamp, who I privately nicknamed Skank, moved forward to speak, but the tall male put a hand on her arm. "We withdraw our objections at this time," he said, bowing low, before gesturing to the other vampires. They exited, with the leader's hand still tight on Skank's arm.  
"Motion passed," Skull pronounced. "Any new business?"  
A russet-colored werewolf stepped forward. "New-member business." The voice coming from the creature belonged to Plagg Bone. My sister was dating a werewolf.  
Skull picked up a long, ornate dagger and motioned Tikki to the front of the room. He took her by the wrist. There would be no ceremonies that included daggers and Dupain-Chengs tonight, not if I could stop it. I made a motion forward, but Adrien held me back. I smothered a scream, but I wasn't quick enough.  
Tikki looked around like she was searching for someone. Daisy, you are in so much trouble,  
her voice said in my mind.  
I'm fine. But you won't be if you don't leave. Now.  
I ducked my head back into the alcove and prayed no one else had spotted us.  
Skull dropped the dagger and swore.  
A werewolf with a beautiful silver coat froze and sniffed the air.  
I heard a low growl. A shiver went down my spine. We were in trouble. There was what sounded like a very pissed-off puppy right beside us.  
"Adrien?" I said softly.  
"Yes?" he said, his eyes searching the shadows.  
"I think it's time to leave," I said.  
"Mari," he replied, "it's time to run."  
He grabbed my hand and we bolted. I was too busy running for my life to worry about whether or not anyone was following us.  
Then, I heard a loud panting behind us. I sped up, cursing all those nights I'd stayed home with a pint of Ben Jerry's instead of heading to the gym.  
We ran the block it took to get to Adrien's car. He slammed it into gear and we took off.  
"Maybe I should join the track team," I joked weakly.  
When we got to our house, Mom's car was in the driveway, but there wasn't a light on in her room. She must have already gone to bed.  
I made some hot chocolate, and Adrien and I sat in the living room waiting for Tikki to come home. Finally, she burst in the front door, thankfully unscathed, but clearly angry. "Daisy, what were you doing there?"  
"Following you," I said. Tikki stared at me with a strange expression on her face.  
"What?" I whispered to Ryan.  
"You were talking like Tikki had asked you a question," he said.  
"She did," I said. Now I was the confused one.  
"No, she didn't, Mari," he said. "She just had a really annoyed look on her face, which means..."  
"Which means what?"  
"That you read her mind," he said.  
"But I can't read minds." My mind tried to process the information, but I had more immediate concerns; namely, one ticked-off big sis.  
Tikki stood in front of me with her hands on her hips. "Do you know how long it took me to convince Plagg to let me be initiated? And then you barge in and ruin it."  
"Ruin what exactly?"  
"A secret-society meeting," she said.  
"Not very secret," I commented. She glared at me, but I continued anyway. "I mean, it's not like Mort's Mortuary is the Bat-cave or anything. It's only a block off Main Street."  
Manon must have heard us, because she wandered in and plopped down in the big leather chair. "How'd it go?" she asked Tikki.  
"Not well," she said. "There was a ... complication."  
"Do you mean that your boyfriend is in a secret society that evidently makes decisions about paranormal matters, or the part where he's a werewolf?"  
Whatever Tikki had been doing, it was obvious that Manon knew about it. My sisters, as usual, were keeping secrets from me.  
"Mari, don't look like that," Manon said. "Tikki only told me tonight because she needed to let someone know where she was, just in case."  
"But you knew that Plagg was of the furry persuasion?" I asked.  
"That's why he broke up with her before," Manon admitted. "He'd just found out about being a werewolf."  
"But neither of you said a word to me," I said. Left out as usual.  
"I was going to, honestly, Marinette, but Plagg asked me not to say anything."  
"Go on," I said.  
Tikki sighed. "You can't say anything to anybody about this," she said. "You know I've been helping Mom with this case. And you know that I've been ... talking to Plagg again. He told me there's a secret society in Paris that might be able to help."  
"And Plagg Bone is a member?"  
"One of them," she admitted. Her glance strayed to Adrien's face with a particular intensity. What was going on? "The thirteen original families who settled Paris started it ages ago."  
"The original thirteen?" Adrien said. "You're sure?"  
Tikki nodded, studying him closely. I stared at her and then glanced at Adrien. He seemed shocked by what he'd heard. "I—I've got to go. Curfew." He stood and walked out the door without a good-bye.  
"What's with him?" I wondered, staring at the empty doorway. But my mind was still reeling. I quickly turned my attention back to Tikki. "So, this secret society. What do they do? Are they good or bad?" The questions tumbled out of my mouth.  
"I don't know," she said. "Plagg wouldn't tell me much, but I do know they make judgments about the ... less than normal occurrences in Paris."  
"You mean the supernatural stuff? You think they're the good guys? That dagger didn't exactly make me think of white knights and chivalry," I said.  
"Plagg would never do anything to hurt me," she said stubbornly.  
I wasn't so sure, but I supposed I'd be snippy, too, if my boyfriend was an overgrown furball. There was a lot of stuff for me to digest: a soul-sucking vampire on the loose, my sister's boyfriend being a werewolf, and a secret society, which meant that the town's founding fathers (and mothers) probably weren't human. Paris was even weirder than I had thought.


	9. Chapter 9

As worn out as I was from the events of the previous night, on Friday morning my cheerleading career was off to a flying start. Alya met me and the other new cheerleaders in the gym to give us our uniforms and teach us some of the routines. I had a hard time getting used to walking down the halls of Collége Fançois DuPont in my cheerleading uniform. I tugged down the short skirt when I saw Kim staring at my legs.

When I saw Adrien and waved at him, my sweater rode up and bared a sliver of midriff skin. I felt exposed and slightly ridiculous. Adrien's smile of appreciation did make me feel better, though. So did the way he put his arm around me as he walked me to class.

"I'm not ready for this," I said.

"For class?" Adrien said.

"For the pep rally," I said. "I can't cheer in front of the whole school."

He brushed a stray lock of hair away from my face. "You'll be great," he said. "But I'm not sure I like the way all the guys are checking you out."

"Nobody even knew my name before now," I scoffed. "It's just the uniform."

"No," he said softly. "It's you. And I knew your name."

I smiled at him. "I know."

The bell rang, and Adrien sprinted to his class. I watched him go before I went into mine.

The only good thing about the pep rally was that I got out of class early. I met the other girls in the gym after sixth period. Miss Bustier wasn't there yet.

Everyone was gathered around Alya. She frowned when she saw me. "You're late, Mari."

"I had a test," I explained.

She handed me a small, brightly wrapped box. I noticed that the other cheerleaders were holding similar packages.

"What's this?"

She smiled at me. "Just a little something. Open it!"

I looked at her warily. She didn't look like a vampire, despite her pale skin, black wardrobe, and bloodred lips. She looked like someone I could trust. Too bad I didn't believe it, not for a second. I didn't know whether or not she was the vamp, but I did know that Alya Césaire wasn't ever nice, not without a reason.

The other girls tore through the wrappings. I opened mine slowly and found a beautiful silver bracelet. Dangling from it was a small black symbol.

"It's an ankh," Jordan said. She was right. It was the same symbol as the one on Alya's pendant.

The girls clustered around Alya. "I love it," Sabrina cooed.

I stood there, lost in thought as the squad thanked Alya. Why was she suddenly handing out presents? And why an ankh?

Alya looked at me expectantly. I focused and realized she was waiting for a thank-you.

"Thanks," I said. "It's lovely."

"Well, put it on," she said. "We don't have much time. I want everyone to wear them to the pep rally."

I had intended to slip it into my pocket, but our uniforms didn't have pockets. Alya took it from me and fastened it on my wrist.

She stepped back and surveyed me for a long moment. "That's better," she said.

Miss Bustier arrived as we were warming up. She was dressed in bright white designer sweats with red trim. "Let's get ready, girls. In formation." She blew her whistle.

Alya said, "Good luck, Mari!" Before I could respond, she added. "And don't forget, you're a base during the pyramid formation."

I was surprised she didn't make a snide remark about my weight. There were two categories of cheerleaders, flyers and bases. The flyers were the tiniest of the tiny and the bases, well, weren't. I was going to be on the bottom of the pyramid. I just had to smile while I supported the entire squad on my back.

And speaking of getting to the bottom of things, I had some sleuthing to do. I wanted to find out what the jewelry meant. After finding out from Tikki that the ankh was associated with resurrection and the afterlife, I had a hunch I wasn't going to like the answer.

I didn't like wearing it, but there was no way I could take it off now, standing in front of the whole school.

We stood in formation while Principal Damocles droned on. I thought my leg was going to cramp and bent down to rub it. Alya frowned at me and shook her head. I quickly straightened.

Adrien and the rest of the football players sat in the first row. Great—he'd have a perfect view if I made a complete fool of myself.

The music started, and that was our cue. I hoped I would remember the routine. Thankfully, Alya put me near the back, so no one noticed when I stumbled. No such luck. Sabrina smirked at me. A few minutes later, she nearly crushed my hand when she stepped on it climbing on my back for the pyramid.

As soon as the pyramid had formed, a figure dressed in a short black skirt and top darted in front of us. I saw a flash of red hair. Peering out of the corner of my eye, I was stunned to see that it was the missing dead girl.

I made an involuntary movement and Alya, in the row above me, said through gritted teeth, "Marinette, don't you dare move. If you do, we'll all come tumbling down on top of you."

She didn't say "you idiot," but she didn't need to. It was still a struggle to remain still as a statue while the figure whirled and twirled and finally went into an impossibly long set of cartwheels and wheeled herself right out of the gym.

The room rang with applause.

I searched the stands for Adrien. He looked confused by my shocked expression, but he didn't recognize the show-off as the dead girl—only I had seen her in the morgue.

I wished I could run after her, but there was nothing I could do but watch her slip away. I caught Manon's eye and she mouthed, "What's wrong?" from her seat in the stands.

It was too late. I just shook my head. She gave me a big thumbs-up, probably thinking I was just nervous about my performance.

Dedicated dieters or not, I felt like my back was going to break under the weight of the other cheerleaders. Finally, we got out of the pyramid formation.

Mr. Damocles said, "Please give a round of applause for Coach Rainer Wullf and the Paris Sea Monsters varsity football team!"

I stood in a straight line with the other cheerleaders and shouted to get the crowd fired up, but my mind wasn't on "Go, Fight, Win"—it was on the dead girl's appearance at my school.

After the rally, the cheerleaders decided to change and grab something to eat. It wouldn't do to get anything on the uniforms, not before a game.

Alya and I were the only ones left in the locker room changing into street clothes when Mrs. Césaire swept into the room in a cloud of Chanel.

What was she doing here? Mrs. Césaire was usually too busy trying to make the Paris society pages to pay any attention to her own daughter. Or at least that's what my mom, who rarely said anything negative about anyone, had told me.

But there Mrs. Césaire was in all her couture glory.

"Alya," she said, kissing the air a few inches from Alya's face.

"Mother, you made it to the pep rally!" Alya's face lit up.

"No, dear, I was in town for a meeting with our bankers," Mrs. Césaire said.

Alya's smile disappeared.

"What is that atrocity you're wearing?" Mrs. Césaire said, after looking Alya over. "You look absolutely ghastly."

Ghastly? Alya had changed into a flowing dress in gray. It looked like someone had draped a huge spiderweb over her, but it wasn't the strangest outfit I'd seen her in lately. And she still looked gorgeous.

I was surprised to see a look of satisfaction on Alya's face. Could it be that she was adopting the ghoul look just to irritate her mother?

"You don't like it?" Alya asked, hiding a smile.

"Heavens no," Mrs. Césaire replied. "The next time I'm in town, I must take you shopping for something decent."

"Next time?" Alya said. "You're leaving already?"

"I'm afraid I must," her mother replied. "I have a fund-raiser to attend this evening."

The smile left Alya's face for a second, before she plastered it back on. "It's okay," she said airily. "I have lots to do, too, but I did need to ask you just one thing. Mari, if you'll excuse us?"

They walked to one end of the locker room and stood there talking for a few minutes. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I could tell from their body language that Alya was asking for something and her mother was saying no.

After their low-voiced conversation, Mrs. Césaire turned and left, not even bothering to hug Alya good-bye or tell her when she'd see her again.

As nasty as Alya could be, it was impossible not to feel bad for her at that moment, as she stared at the door her mom disappeared through.

After a few seconds, she turned to me. "Marinette, quit staring," she snapped. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

I shrugged and gave her a sympathetic look, but she turned up her nose. Alya was trying to hide the hurt, but I could see it. The girl was full of secrets and I'd get them out of her eventually.

That's what friends were for, right? To be there when you needed them? Whether Alya Césaire and I could be considered friends was debatable, but I had a feeling that she needed me, even if she wasn't ready to admit it or to tell me what was going on.

Alya cleared her throat noisily and then changed the subject. "Can you believe that show-off Chelsea Morris?"

"No, not really," I answered her, but my mind was whirling. Besides rejoicing in the fact that I'd made it through my first pep rally without throwing up, and worrying about Alya, I also wondered where the red-haired girl had gone. Had she been a figment of my imagination?

"I bet she's trying to steal our routine. When we were in cheer camp..." Sam continued her story, but I had tuned her out. She thought her life was something out of Bring It On,

but I had bigger things to worry about. Like finding the dead girl who was walking around Paris.

"I can't believe she had the nerve to show up at our pep rally," she said.

"What did you say?" I asked, suddenly homing in on what she was saying. "You know that girl?"

She put her hands on her hips. "That's who I've been talking about for the last five minutes. Honestly. Yes, Chelsea Morris. From cheer camp. Goes to San Carlos High. Haven't you been listening at all?"

"What else do you know about her?"

This time, I listened while Alya filled me in on everything she knew about a dead girl.


	10. Chapter 10

The football game against Quail Hollow followed the pep rally. After the game, Adrien went off with the rest of the guys to celebrate. With all the excitement, I hadn't had any time alone with Adrien to tell him what I had found out about the identity of the dead girl, and the weekend ended without a call from him. Alya seemed to think Adrien and I were locked down as a couple, but I had my doubts.  
After my last class on Monday, I hurried to my locker to meet up with Adrien for a few minutes.  
I wanted to catch him before the squad showed up to drag me off to the hospital. Not that I didn't want to visit Chloe. I did, but I didn't want to go with the whole squad, like I was some sort of creature who could travel only in a pack.  
Visiting Chloe was a kind, considerate thing to do. So how was it that Alya was the one who thought of it? She didn't have a kind bone in her body. Did she? Or maybe she was just visiting to make a withdrawal, like a selfish, soul-sucking fiend. Now that sounded more like the Alya I knew.  
I was going up the stairs, headed for my locker, when someone grabbed me and pulled me into the shadowy stairwell. I was not in the mood to become some vamp's dinner, so I put an elbow in the ribs of the person holding me.  
"Mari, it's me," Adrien said.  
"You nearly scared the life out of me," I said. "You can't go creeping around, not when there's a vampire loose."  
"Sorry, I didn't think," he said. It was darker in the stairwell and much more private. Or it would have been, except it was also already occupied by two freshmen who were pressed up against each other like they'd never heard of personal space.  
"Beat it!" I said, and they scampered.  
"Want to come over after school? We'll have the house to ourselves." Adrien pressed a kiss along the base of my neck and I shivered.  
"I can't make it today," I told him. "Alya asked the squad to visit Chloe in the hospital." And maybe I could poke around and find out something about Chloe's mysterious illness. If Alya was sucking her soul, I wanted to put a stop to it.  
"Sure," he said. "But I have tons of homework and I could use a little help with statistics."  
"That's why you asked me to your house after school? You wanted help with your homework?" Adrien was a straight-A student.  
He didn't say anything, and finally the light dawned.  
"Adrien Agreste, you were trying to lure me to your house under false pretenses," I said.  
"I just wanted to spend some time with you," he said. "Our first date was memorable, but we didn't get any time alone."  
Date? I thought. The Black Opal fiasco was a real date? Obviously, it wasn't a very good one. Of course, an awful first date with Adrien was ten times better than a smooth date with anyone else.  
"Drag," I said. "Alya will have a conniption if I don't go to the hospital. And I'd really like to see Chloe."  
"It's okay. There will be other nights."  
I said, "There will, I promise."  
"Is that the only reason you dragged me into the stairwell?" Adrien asked, moving closer and putting his hands around my waist.  
I gave him a light punch on the arm. "You dragged me here, remember?"  
"And now I remember why," he said softly before he kissed me.  
A long moment later, I finally started to breathe again. "Adrien," I said, "Alya is probably looking for me."  
"So?" he said. He brushed a lock of hair back from my face.  
"So she might see us," I said, panicking.  
"She already knows we're going out," he said calmly. He cupped the back of my head to pull me in for another kiss.  
"But you like her," I said.  
"Of course I like her," he said. "She's Nino's girlfriend and Nino's my friend."  
"No, you like her like her," I said. "You've had a huge crush on her since the second grade, you can't deny it."  
"Mari, that was years ago," he replied. "I also ate paste and wanted to be a fireman. I don't like Alya Césaire except as a friend."  
"You don't?"  
He kissed the side of my neck. "I. Like. You." Each word was punctuated by soft kisses. "Now please kiss me," he said.  
Since he asked so nicely, I did. He did that nicely as well.  
Several minutes later, I pulled myself out of his arms. "Adrien, I've got to go. The squad will be waiting."  
I sprinted down the hall and then up the stairs to the main entrance. I grinned the whole way. Adrien liked me, not Alya, not whoever else he'd been kissing in the morgue. He liked plain old Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  
I met Laya and the rest of the squad coming downstairs as I was coming up. The smile disappeared from my face.  
"Marinette, we've been looking everywhere for you," she snapped. "Did you forget about Chloe already?"  
"No," I huffed, trying to catch my breath. "Weren't we going to meet in the parking lot?"  
Alya gave me a dead-eye stare but didn't say anything. I had a guilty feeling she knew what I'd been doing. A feeling that was confirmed when she handed me a tissue and whispered, "Your lipstick is smeared."  
"Thanks." She was being nice to me and covering my butt besides. In Alya's case, being dead was a definite improvement.  
"Let's go!" she said. "Marinette, you can ride with me. I'll show you how to put on lipstick properly. We can't have our newest cheerleader looking like a bag lady."  
Okay, maybe not that big of an improvement.  
Alya somehow managed to get me in her car alone. I knew it might not be the smartest thing to do—spend time alone with a possible vamp—but I didn't have many friends. And she had seemed genuinely surprised when Chelsea showed up at the pep rally. Alya wasn't  
that good an actress. She certainly wasn't fooling me with her sudden friendliness. She was going to grill me about Adrien, I just knew it.  
But she didn't.  
"That was fun the other night," she said. "The hanging out together part, not the finding the unconscious girl part."  
"It was fun," I said. Except for the part where she sat in the front and hogged Adrien.  
"We should do it again sometime," she suggested.  
Alya and I had been best friends in sixth grade. At the time, I had trusted her more than anyone, even my sisters. I didn't trust her now.  
"Why are you suddenly interested in being friends, Alya?"  
"Mari, I know you're still mad at me about what happened, but it was a long time ago. People can change. I just want you to give me a chance."  
She had her chance, I thought, but aloud I said, "We're on the same squad now. I can't promise that we'll ever be best friends, but I'll try to get along." And being on the squad would mean that I could keep a close eye on the dead Césaire.  
She seemed satisfied with my answer, and the talk turned to the upcoming homecoming dance.  
The other girls were waiting for us in the hospital parking lot, holding a huge GET WELL SOON banner. Alya's best friend, Jordan, had a distinct pout on her black-lipsticked face. She was probably sulking because Alya hadn't let her ride in the car with us.  
I trailed behind the group. I needed to do some digging and couldn't do it in a cluster of cheer. When we reached the elevators, I spotted a gift shop.  
"I'm just going to buy Chloe some flowers," I said brightly. "I'll catch up with you upstairs. What's her room number?"  
"Room 301," Alya said. "Don't take too long."  
I gave her an exasperated look. "We can't all visit her at the same time anyway. Hospital rules."  
Actually, I had no idea if those were the rules, but I needed her off my back for a few minutes. What I was about to do was definitely against hospital rules, and I didn't need any witnesses.  
Tukki had undergone an appendectomy at this hospital last year. Not that big of a coincidence, since it was the only hospital in town, but I did learn my way around the place while she was there.  
I ducked into the gift shop and grabbed a nice bouquet. Chloe was a good person and didn't deserve the weirdness that was happening to her. If Alya was the reason for it, she was going to be sorry. Payback is a bitch.  
I slipped out of the elevator on the third floor just in time to see a nurse shushing my squad as they turned the corner. The nurses' station was temporarily deserted.  
In the station were rows of cubbyholes. I knew from Tikki's time there that the patients' charts were kept there.  
I hunkered down and hoped I wouldn't be spotted. The charts were labeled only with room numbers, so I scanned the rows of files quickly, searching for 301. It wasn't there.  
I stood, took a quick look around the corridor. Still no sign of any nurses. I went back to the nurses' station and surveyed the files on the desk. There it was!  
I heard footsteps just as I spotted Chloe's file. I couldn't get to it in time.  
I had only a few seconds to whip around to the other side. "May I help you?" A woman's voice said pleasantly.  
"I'm looking for Chloe Bourgeois?" I said, trying to sound innocent.  
"She's in room 301. Are you one of her cheerleader friends?" The woman asked.  
I nodded.  
"It is visiting hours, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait until someone leaves. I'm stretching the rules as it is by allowing so many visitors at once."  
"Is it all right if I wait here?"  
"Certainly," she said. "There are a few chairs and some magazines right over there." She pointed to a tiny waiting area and I sat. I grabbed a magazine and thumbed through it while I tried to figure out my next move. For the next several minutes, I watched as people passed by—orderlies transporting patients, visitors, and even a doctor or two.  
A bell went off somewhere and the nurse hurried down a corridor, but I couldn't make a move because the hallway was still clogged with people. A few minutes later, the traffic died down and the hallway was deserted. I kept an eye out for the desk nurse and casually ambled in the direction of the nurses' station. I reached over and grabbed Chloe's file, stuffed it under my shirt, and took off. My heart was pounding so hard it sounded like someone chasing me.  
I went into the bathroom and locked the door. Until I exhaled deeply, I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath.  
I flipped through Chloe's chart and realized that I had no idea what I was reading. I didn't speak medical. I grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser and dug in my purse for something to write with. I scribbled down several words that seemed important and shoved the paper into my purse.  
I took another deep breath and stuck the file back under my shirt. I grabbed my purse and left the bathroom.  
From across the waiting room, I could see that the nurses' station was empty. I eased the folder from under my shirt and was about to put it back in its rightful place when I heard my name being spoken. Panic flooded my body. Busted. The folder whizzed across the room and landed on the desk.  
I turned and saw Manon.  
My shoulders slumped with relief. "Manon, thanks so much!"  
"Thanks for what?"  
I didn't know why she was being so modest. She'd just saved my butt by using her telekinesis. I dropped it, assuming that she just didn't want to talk about her powers in public or something, even though she'd never shown a sign of false modesty before now.  
We both turned as we heard footsteps approaching.  
"Don't say anything," I whispered. "I'll explain later."  
It was the same nurse from before. "Some of the girls have left," she said. "So you can go visit your friend now."  
I grabbed the flowers, and Manon and I headed to Chloe's room.  
"What are you doing here?" I asked her.  
"Same as you," she said. "Visiting Chloe." It made sense. Chloe and Manon both hung with the popular people, but I wasn't convinced. I raised an eyebrow.  
"Okay," Manon said in a whisper, "I was snooping, obviously, just like you were."  
Chloe had a private room, which was decorated in peach and white. The spicy smell of the roses and lilies masked the antiseptic hospital odors.  
Alya was the only visitor left in the room. She'd pulled her chair up next to Chloe's bed and was whispering something in her ear when we walked in.  
Chloe was lying in the bed, propped up with several pillows. There was an IV drip attached to her arm, and unidentifiable machines surrounded her. An uneaten dinner lay abandoned on the tray. She smiled when she saw us standing in the doorway.  
I smiled back, but the sight of her made me want to cry. In the few days since I'd last seen her, her appearance had deteriorated. Chloe was naturally slender, but she'd lost weight she couldn't afford to lose. She looked ghastly, like one of the consumptive patients from Tikki's science books. Her skin and lips were so pale she looked as though she'd been drained of blood. Her skin was almost translucent. The white streak in her hair had grown so wide it almost covered the entire crown of her head, which made her look my grandma's age.  
She was barely recognizable as the Chloe we knew. It was as if the beauty had been sucked right out of her.  
I focused my gaze on Alya. "Where have you been?" she snapped.  
"The nurse wouldn't let us come in," I said. "Too many visitors." I smiled at Chloe. "It seems you're as popular as ever."  
Alya frowned but didn't say anything else.  
"I have had a lot of visitors," Rachel said in a weak voice. "Miss Bustier, Nurse Nadja, and some of the other teachers from school stopped by." She saw the flowers, which lay forgotten in my hands. "Are those for me?"  
When I nodded, she looked delighted. "They're lovely. Everyone has been so nice." She gestured toward the entire greenhouse of bouquets already in her room. That's when I saw the ankh bracelet on her thin wrist.  
I said to Chloe, "I like your bracelet."  
"Alya gave it to me. Isn't it great?"  
"Peachy," I said, narrowing my eyes at Alya.  
"Chloe is still part of the squad, Marinette," she said. "We're all wearing them." She looked pointedly at my wrist. "Everyone, it seems, except you."  
"I forgot it at home," I said. I'm a terrible liar.  
Alya glared at me.  
Chloe looked distressed at our bickering, and I felt ashamed of myself about arguing in a hospital room.  
"Next time we visit, we'll bring magazines," Manon promised, just as I opened my mouth to apologize.  
"Chloe's going to be out of here in no time," Samantha said. "Isn't that right, Chloe?"  
Chloe said weakly, "Yeah, sure." But she didn't sound very convinced. After a long silence, she added, "Manon, magazines would be very thoughtful. I honestly don't know how long I'll be in here."  
Time to do a little digging. "Has your doctor narrowed it down at all?"  
Alya changed the subject abruptly. "Did I tell you who the newest couple is?" She sent me death rays with her eyes, but I ignored the warning.  
Chloe ignored Samantha's lame attempt at avoidance. "The doctors are stumped, Mari," she said softly, "and it's getting worse." A tear ran down her cheek, but she smiled at me and I could see a glimmer of remaining beauty.  
Alya turned away, but not before I saw that she was weeping silently. And my normally chatty sister was completely silent.  
As soon as I could speak, I said, "We'll do anything we can to help you. Anything."  
Chloe's mom arrived, toting a big Tupperware container of food. "I hope you have an appetite tonight," she said to Chloe, "because I made all your favorites." She added, "She doesn't like the hospital food, and I can't say I blame her."  
"We'd better go," I said. "Chloe, I'll see you soon."  
I told Alya I was riding home with Manon and we said good- bye.  
In the car on the way home, I dug through my purse, looking for a scrap of paper to write on, when the paper towel I'd scribbled on earlier fell out.  
"What's that?" Manon pointed to it.  
"I jotted down a few notes from Chloe's chart, but I can't understand it," I admitted. A thought occurred to me. "Do we have time to stop at the library? Maybe we can find a medical dictionary."  
As we left the hospital parking lot, a mint-condition pink 1957 Thunderbird convertible squealed out of the driveway and cut Manon off as she started to make the turn. Manon slammed on her brakes, and the driver honked her horn and sped past us.  
"Learn to drive," Manon shouted, but we were both a little shaken by the incident.  
"It was a beautiful car, though," I said. "Dad would have loved it." My father had loved classic cars.  
"Maybe not in pink," Manon giggled. She sobered quickly and said, "I haven't heard you talk about Dad in a long time."  
"I didn't have anything to say," I replied. My father had been a professor at UC Paris until his mysterious disappearance five years ago. The official version is that he died while doing some research in a forest in northern California. The unofficial version, which was talked about in hushed whispers all around town, was that he ran off with another woman, leaving behind his wife and three daughters.  
My mother refused to believe either version and preferred to think he was still out there somewhere—alive, but unable to get back to us. This is one case where her psychic powers were useless. I think he just left us and never looked back. And that's why I never talked about my father.  
"Mom's still looking for him, you know," Manon said. "All those nights when she says she's working late? I think she's still trying to find Dad."  
"Mom's a hopeless romantic," I said.  
Manon said softly, "Hopeful, Mari. She's a hopeful romantic." I didn't know how Mom could still have hope after all these years. I know I didn't. I just wanted to survive my junior year.


	11. Chapter 11

That Friday evening, there was no football game, so I went with the rest of the squad to visit Chloe in the hospital again. Manon came along to deliver the magazines she promised. Unfortunately, Chloe wasn't doing any better. Manon and I left the hospital saddened by her dire state.  
Things seemed pretty grim between Adrien and me, too. We had planned to hang out that night, but for some reason he had never called.  
"I need a pick-me-up," I said. "Want to go to Theo's?"  
"Sounds good," said Manon. "Why don't you call Tikki and see if she wants to come along."  
Tikki was just getting out of her last class of the week when I reached her on her cell phone. She said she'd meet us at the diner.  
Hanging with my sisters at the diner was way better than sitting home on a Friday night. A lot of Paris kids drove to Nice and hung out at the pier on the weekends, which meant Main Street was usually dead on Friday night. Tonight was no exception.  
At Theo's, Juleka sat at the counter, thumbing through a magazine. When we entered, the bell over the door jangled. I assumed its purpose was to alert Juleka to the presence of customers, but it certainly didn't interrupt her reading.  
Tikki was already waiting for Manon and me in our favorite booth, the one at the end by the big bay window.  
Juleka eventually meandered over to take our order. Tonight her shirt read, "I LIKE CHILDREN—FRIED."—W.C. FIELDS.  
"I'm starving," Manon said. "This was a great idea, Mari. Comfort food is just what we need." She ordered a plate of chili fries and a chicken sandwich. Tikki tried to order a salad, but we convinced her she needed a side of onion rings, too.  
"Is there fresh coffee, Juleka?" I asked. "I need coffee and a cheeseburger."  
Juleka ambled off to put in our order and then resumed her position at the counter.  
"Coffee?" Tikki said. "At this time of night? You'll never get to sleep." It was seven o'clock, tops.  
"I won't be able to sleep anyway," I confessed gloomily. "I want to help Chloe, but I don't know how." I had been to the library a few times that week trying to interpret the information I had copied from Chloe's chart, but it was no use. I didn't even understand half of what I'd read.  
"Oh, the sick cheerleader," Tikki said. "How is she doing?"  
"We went to see her again today," Manon said. "She looked like she's at death's door."  
"The doctors have run all sorts of tests and found nothing," I said. "Or at least that's what they're telling Chloe."  
I sighed. I had been so determined to figure out Chloe's problem myself, but who was I kidding? Tikki studied science at college, so she had a much better understanding of medical jargon than I did.  
I dug through my purse, found the paper towel with my notes on it, and handed it to Tikki. "Maybe this says different."  
Tikki looked over my notes. "Mari, I won't ask you how you got this information," she said.  
"Good. And I won't tell you," I replied.  
She studied the scribbles for a few minutes.  
"Well?" asked Manon anxiously.  
Tikki shook her head. "They haven't been able to diagnose her with anything. They're stumped. Either Chloe's faking it or—"  
"Or what?" Manon and I said together.  
"Or it's not natural at all. I think what's happening to Chloe is supernatural, and the best hospital in the world can't cure that."  
"We do know that there's a psionic vampire in town," Manon said. "What you heard at the council meeting confirmed it."  
"How do we trap a supernatural villain?" I said.  
We stared at each other. It was a question that none of us had an answer for.  
I sighed and put my hands in my pockets. I was wearing the hoodie I'd worn the night Adrien and I snuck into the morgue. The night he'd kissed me for the first time.  
My hand touched something metal—the bracelet Alya had given me. I pulled it out of my pocket and laid it on the table.  
"Chloe had on a bracelet just like that," Manon observed.  
"Alya gave them to all the girls on the squad," I said. "I don't like wearing it, though. It gives me the creeps. The ankh has a connection to vampirism. Right, Tikki?"  
"It can also represent life," Tikki said skeptically.  
I looked at the bracelet, more confused then ever.  
"Are you saying you think Alya Césaire is the psionic vampire?" Manon asked under her breath.  
"Sometimes I think she could be," I admitted. "What if she's using these bracelets as some kind of energy conductor or something? She's always making sure we're wearing them. Maybe they help her get her soul fix."  
Tikki and Manon looked doubtful.  
"The vamp has to be someone who has access to the cheerleaders," I continued. "She's the head cheerleader, so she definitely has the opportunity."  
"But what's her motivation?" Tikki asked.  
"I don't know," I said. "Beauty? Popularity?"  
"Alya's always been beautiful," Tikki replied.  
"Plus, she's already the most popular girl in school," Manon pointed out. "And she's only a junior!"  
I finally gave up. I couldn't even convince my own sisters that Alya could be our vamp. "Well, who else could it be?" I asked, but nobody had any answers.  
Juleka finally arrived with our food. I bit into my deliciously greasy cheeseburger.  
Tikki picked daintily at her salad, but I noticed she slathered the onion rings with barbeque sauce and ranch dressing.  
I glanced out the window and noticed a couple walking toward the police station. There was something about the back of the guy that looked familiar. Long legs, broad shoulders, and a few rebellious curls caressing the back of his neck. It was Adrien. With another girl. I couldn't tell who she was, but she wore a black cowboy hat.  
I pushed away my cheeseburger. I wasn't hungry any longer. But I was pretty pissed off. It looked like Adrien was taking some other girl to the morgue. From what Ivan had said, it wasn't the first time.  
Juleka pulled up a stool. "Nothing better to do tonight than hang out here?" she said.  
Manon replied, through a mouthful of chili fries, "This is it. What's new with you?"  
Juleka thought for a minute. "I got nothin'." She snapped her fingers. "Wait a minute!" She fished a quarter out of her pocket and handed it to me. "Go play the jukebox."  
"It's still here? I assumed Theo would have traded it in by now." I wasn't really concentrating on the conversation, but instead stared out the window and willed Adrien to reappear.  
Juleka shrugged. "It kind of grows on you. Some people like not knowing what it'll play next. Although it doesn't do it for everybody."  
It had worked for me before, so I figured it would do it again. Besides, you know what they say, music soothes the jealous girlfriend. So I got up, put a quarter in, and looked at the selections. "Juleka, I've never heard of half of these songs."  
I selected an old Green Day song but was prepared when a different song came on instead.  
"Is this thing defective?" Manon asked.  
"Nope," Juleka said. "I'm pretty sure it's doing it on purpose."  
"What's the name of this song?" I asked Juleka.  
"This song is 'Heartbreaker' by Pat Benatar. It seems to be trying to tell you something."  
Great. Now even inanimate objects were sending me mixed messages. The last thing I needed to hear was a song about a guy breaking some girl's heart.  
The bell above the door jangled, and then Adrien walked in with a gorgeous redheaded girl. This time, I heard the jukebox's message loud and clear.


	12. Chapter 12

Adrien and his companion were so engrossed in their conversation that they walked right by our booth before he saw us.  
"Mari, what are you doing here?" Ryan asked. I'd never noticed how shifty his green eyes were.  
"Having dinner with my sisters," I said icily. "Heartbreaker" faded and then cut out.  
"Oh," he said. "I thought you'd be out with the other cheerleaders."  
"I'm not," I stated the obvious. Coldly.  
"Oh," he said again.  
Oh, indeed.  
"You're Marinette?" the redhead squealed. Not exactly the greeting I was expecting. I gave Adrien a puzzled look.  
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she said. She slid into the booth and threw her arms around me.  
"For what?" I asked. Giving her my guy, not drop-kicking her across town, what?  
"For saving my life," she said.  
"Mari, this is Cassandra Morris," Ryan said.  
Cassandra? Why did her voice sound so familiar? Then I remembered the voice echoing in my mind.  
"The girl you saved at the Black Opal," Cassandra chirped.  
I thought Tikki flinched when she mentioned the name of the club, but I couldn't be sure because Cassandra was bouncing in her seat.  
I introduced her to my sisters and then called out, "Juleka, can we get a couple more menus, please?"  
To Cassandra I said, "Order anything you'd like. My treat." This technique was called greasing the witness. Cassandra ordered a banana split and a Coke. Adrien asked for coffee.  
"Cassandra was just released from the hospital, so she was down at the station answering a few questions for my dad," Adrien said pointedly.  
Interesting that Cassandra was already out of the hospital but Chloe was still stuck there, growing weaker day by day. Which meant that the vampire, whoever it was, was still feeding off Chloe. Who'd been to the hospital to see her? Practically everybody at school.  
Then I realized Adrien was still standing, so we all scooted over to make room for him. He sat across from me, next to Tikki. He tried to catch my eye, but I ignored him. He wasn't completely off the hook yet. Lead or not, Cassandra was still a gorgeous redhead.  
I waited until they'd placed their order and Flo was out of earshot.  
"Can you tell us what happened that night?" I asked.  
"You sound just like Chief Agreste," she said. "Side Effects May Vary is my favorite band," Cassandra explained. "I never miss a gig. Unless I have a tournament or something."  
"Tournament?" Manon said.  
"I'm a cheerleader for the San Carlos Squids."  
Manon made a face at the name. "Who wants to be the Squids?" she said.  
"Collége François DuPont doesn't exactly have the best mascot in the world," I said. "We're the Sea Monsters, remember?"  
"And UC Paris' mascot is the Slug," Rose added.  
"So you were at the Black Opal to see the band?" I prompted, trying to bring the conversation back to the night in question.  
"Were you alone or did you have a date?" Manon asked.  
"I went alone," Cassandra said. "I like to keep my options open." She elbowed me in the ribs, just in case I didn't get it.  
"And is that what you were doing that night? Keeping your options open?" I sounded a little sour.  
" Trying," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye, "but there weren't many likely prospects."  
"Then what happened?" Adrien asked.  
"Well, the band took a break and I went down the hall. I was going to try to sneak backstage and meet them," she explained.  
"How did you know where to go to get backstage?" Tikki asked.  
Cassandra giggled. "This guy I know works there. We've hooked up a couple of times and he told me."  
Tikki didn't say a word, but I knew she was wondering if the guy was Plagg.  
"Then what happened?" I asked.  
Cassandra thought for a moment. "I don't really remember much after that. I think I saw a white light or something and then  
bam, I woke up in the hospital."  
She took off her cowboy hat and fanned herself with it. That's when I saw it. There was a long white streak in her hair, just like the one Chloe had.  
I nudged Manon, who asked Cassandra, "Did you get your hair highlighted recently?"  
Cassandra looked puzzled. "No, but what does that have to do with anything?"  
"Maybe nothing, but maybe something," I replied. "Do you know where you got that streak of white in your hair?"  
"Not a clue," she said indifferently. "I like it, though," she said. "It makes me stand out from my twin."  
"You have a twin?"  
"Yes, her name is Chelsea," Cassandra said. "We're not identical, but we look enough alike that people still get us confused sometimes."  
Chelsea? Chelsea Morris, the dead girl from the morgue, was Cassandra's sister? Oh, no. I knew there was something familiar about Cassandra besides the voice and the cowboy hat.  
I exchanged a glance with my sisters. Should we break the bad news to Cassandra? It didn't seem right to keep the information from her, but it would sound absolutely crazy to tell someone that her dead sister was running around Paris. Oh, and we thought she was a psi-vamp.  
"Maybe we could talk to your sister," Tikki suggested.  
"I haven't talked to her lately. She's staying with our dad right now in Los Angeles. She and my mom got into this huge fight," she said.  
I grabbed a napkin and wrote down my name, phone number, and e-mail address. "If she gets in touch with you, have her call or e-mail me, okay?" I had a dreadful feeling we wouldn't be hearing from Chelsea. I hoped I was wrong. I hoped it was like in the movies. Maybe if we found the head vampire before Chelsea sucked the life out of someone, it wouldn't be too late for her.  
Cassandra shrugged and put the napkin in her purse. "Sure, but she's pretty mad at Mom. Chelsea hasn't even been returning my phone calls."  
Adrien looked at his watch. "I should get Cassandra home."  
"Why?" she said. "I don't have to be home for ages. I thought we could go somewhere and talk."  
Manon rolled her eyes at that one. I could almost hear her thinking, What a lame-ass line.  
"You don't have to be home," he said, "but I do. Mari, are you ready to go?" His eyes pleaded with me to say yes. Since I didn't want Adrien to be stuck fending off Cassandra's advances, or even worse,notfending them off, I said yes.  
We made it to the door before Manon called out, "Be good, kids!"  
Adrien and I both blushed. Cassandra looked from Adrien to me and said, "So you two are a couple, I guess." She sounded disappointed.  
Ryan grabbed my hand and held on for dear life. "Yeah, we're a couple," he said. It was news to me. Dating, yes, but to me, couple meant something more. I just hoped it meant the same thing to Adrien as it did to me.  
We dropped Cassandra off at her house, which was a cute little bungalow in the pricey part of Nice.  
"Maybe I'll see you around at the Black Opal," she said. "Side Effects is playing another gig next weekend."  
"You're going back to the club after what happened to you?"  
"Sure, my dad always says you gotta get back on the horse, you know." She tilted her cowboy hat at a rakish angle. "Thanks again for everything."  
"Cassandra," I called as she walked to her front door, "do me a favor and don't go anywhere alone, okay?"  
"Will do," she said.  
We watched from the car to make sure Cassandra made it inside safely, and then Adrien drove me home.  
This time, he parked away from the streetlight and cut the engine. And when he kissed me, I didn't worry anymore about vampires, or beautiful redheads, because his kiss told me everything I needed to know.


End file.
